My first "real" solo singing adventure

Well ... so this isn't the very first time ever I've sung all by myself before an audience. I have sung at recitals where it was just me, all by myself.

And I've sung in duets and quartets, sometimes having a line or a measure all to myself. So tonight was not really a "first time ever in my entire life" kind of experience.

But it was the first time I had a solo piece in a major concert performance with a chorus: the piece was Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana," and I sang "In Trutina." This is considered a soprano solo, and I'm certainly no soprano -- but our Maestro, Urs Leonhardt Steiner, and I are in agreement that it's an ideal vocal vehicle for an Alto, and as a Mezzo Soprano, it is really right up my alley.

Now, let me say up front that the performance was in a bar in San Francisco's North Beach -- but a solo is a solo, and a gig is a gig, and I'm here to say that I nailed it! "In Trutina" is tricky, there are a couple of long sustains (3 measures, thank you!), and I didn't run out of breath. The opening measure is also syncopated, which also makes it tricky, and I didn't do a very good job in rehearsal last week. But I worked on it with my voice teacher, and practiced every day, and in the end, I believe I did a good job.

I get to repeat this experience in 12 days at Calvary Presbyterian Church in San Francisco. I'll be continuing to work hard at this until then.

Wish me luck!

The last night at Merrie Monarch

Back on the floor at Kanaka'ole Stadium, with half an hour to go before the Royal Court enters and the night's festivities begin.

Today is when I got the most serious flak about the absence of the Academy from this year's festival. It came from two ladies from ... Lake Tahoe!! They had traveled here "specifically to see you folks" and were really disappointed. But eventually understanding. One other friend gave me a mild but sweetly intentioned "scolding" (as in, "What happened to you guys?"), but that's been the extent of it. When people have commented, the bulk have said, "Oh, we love you! Are you coming back?"

Of course I tell them, I hope so!

Last night's kahiko performances included a noho hula usually reserved for royalty which was very different and very exciting. The night ended with three hula ma'i in a row, and I cannot begin to interpret what that was about. The crowd was pleased, though ... lots of smiling faces!
;>

Tonight will be challenging: 27 halau plus judging. We're gonna be here for a while!

Unless something unexpected happens, this will be it for me until we get back home.

See you all soon,

Pat

Japanese ladies make mayhem in Hilo

I'll never understand it. Why the "Miss Aloha Hula" night at the Merrie Monarch competition turns calm and mild-mannered Japanese women into running / pushing / shoving / yelling / hysterical maniacs. It happens every year: one person gets in line and saves spaces in line for 10; the doors open, and they run into the stadium as fast as they can, throwing coats and purses and umbrellas onto every empty seat they can find. Then they stand at their posts, yelling across the stadium at each other, must be something like, "Here! Here!!! Your seat's here!!!" Then they shove their way into their seats ... for about 10 minutes. Once that first wave settles, half of them abandon their saved seats for better pickings.

Meanwhile, local folks get shoved aside, banged with purses, and yelled through as though they don't exist.

All of this mania for the opportunity to witness beautiful hula.

I keep wondering if they'll ever get the disconnect. I'm not holding my breath.

From the floor at Edith Kanaka'ole Stadium

I ran into Kapua, who said she heard AHA pulled out of the ho'ike because "there were not enough dancers."

Here's what was in Tuesday's Honolulu Advertiser:

http://www.honoluluadvertiser.com/article/20090414/BREAKING01/90414083

Our B&B mates were home early, so it must have been an early night.

More to follow ...

Pat

Now it begins

Aloha, e kakou!

Today was my first encounter with the inevitable question for this year's 46th Annual Merrie Monarch Festival: "What happened to AHA?"

I was asked this by Kumu Kenneth “Aloha” Victor of Halau Kala'akeakauikawekiu. Keith and I are staying until tomorrow at the Sheraton Resort & Spa on the Kona side, where Kumu Aloha's halau practices on Monday evenings. Never being one to pass up an opportunity to see hula (and having been thoroughly impressed with the keiki of Halau Kala'akeakauikawekiu, who we had seen in a free performance on Friday night), Keith and I went to the advertised, open practice of the le'a class at the hotel on Monday night.

After the class, we went to thank Kumu Aloha for the opportunity to observe; the conversation naturally got around to who/what/where, and when I stated that I study with Kumu Mark at the Academy, the immediate response was: "What happened?"

I'm happy to report that this question was posed with true concern, and with no attitude or anger. Kumu Aloha just seemed genuinely concerned that something unfortunate had happened.

I expressed to him Kumu Mark's concern about the impact of trying in 12 short weeks to prepare the full complement of dancers for the MM Ho'ike, and how he had decided it was not in the best interest of the Academy to try and do both the Japan tour and the Ho'ike; he truly seemed to understand.

Keep in mind, I'm still in Kona ... so we'll see what happens in the next few days in Hilo. And we'll see how fast the "hula telegraph system" works on Hawai'i Island!

Me ke aloha,

Pat

Can it get better?!? I mean, really?

I can't be the only one who feels like they've awakened from a very long, very bad dream.

I've been trying to get to the bottom of this strange sense of disorientation I've been experiencing. It's not a bad or unpleasant sensation; just ... odd. Familiar, sort of. Just in the way that I feel like I've been here before, and that I keep expecting it to end -- to wake up, as it were.

Back in late August of last year, despite all evidence to the contrary, a large part of me remained cynical and doubtful that the status quo could be upset. My co-worker and I counted down the days until early November, each day subconsciously expecting the boom to really drop, for martial law to be declared, for the absolute end to any possibility of anything vaguely resembling, er, ho- ... ho-p ... just couldn't bring myself to really say it .... hope. That was it, hope.

November came and went. Hope started to surge up from the place I'd lost/buried it back when the oil fields were ignited in Kuwait. Luckily, I got really busy and so the days sped by and I didn't notice that that ... hope thing was hovering around. Probably rising. But it could be ignored in the crush of rehearsals and performances and parties and and and being too busy and tired to notice.

Then somehow, January 20 arrived. Without mishap or tragedy. And I was joyful, like so many people around the world. It felt like belonging to the entire human family, simply sharing that joy. I got up just in time to watch the unfolding of the day, with relative peace of mind, thanks to C-Span. No nattering commentatoring, just the images of faces, smiling faces, so many smiling faces.

Then the words began, and there was that thing, that hope thing, that sensation of life bursting out of my chest, rolling down my cheeks, forcing disbelief into the shadows. Even on that cloudy day, there was such shine, such sunshine.

No catchy soundbites, just straight true talk. Talked to me like a grown-up, like I would understand, like I could see the sense of it, like I was seen, like I deserved respect. No nasty threat talk, no Big Daddy Knows Best dumbing down babble, no ... lies. Just a man with a vision and the determination in the set of his jaw to see it through.

Whoa. What a way to start a morning.

Thanks to the Rev. Joseph Lowery, the ceremonial stuff ended with words that had me laughing out loud. You got your "Amen!", Mr. Bushy-Browed Preacher Man!! www.youtube.com/watch

The rest of the day was hazy, even when the sky cleared. Dreamlike, it was. An afterglow. A rainbow high.

This morning, I awoke with more thoughts in my head about what might be going on in the nation's capitol since

since

since there was a funeral in that majestic place and the whole world watched, weeping.

THIS morning, though, my head was buzzing: shouldn't they replay the oath bit, just to make sure it's done right & proper? Which balls did they go to? Did they stay out late? Will he really start working today, first thing? Can he dance?

OK, OK, I'll explain that last bit. I'm a dancer. Being able to dance is really important to me. Dancing is about being in your body, not just in your head. And when you're in your body, it is possible that you can live closer to your heart. Things that your head would accept may not pass muster when you live closer to your heart. At least I do so believe. It's because I'm just starting to wake up again. I'm just realizing how much I've missed joy and hope. Dancing is joy. See? Makes sense, right? It does to me, at least, and when I got my answer, the joy just burst out and wouldn't stop bouncing me around the room: www.youtube.com/watch

Once I had that answer, I had to find out about the rest. The balls, that was enlightening. Ten. In one night. Fortunately for them, most of them were in the same convention center building. But still!!!

And they danced at every single one.

So I surprised myself by not anticipating that he'd take it easy today. I didn't really have a clear opinion, one way or another, but I did have a mighty curiosity. And as the day spread out before me and the news reports started building, I just woke up. I saw myself and felt my feelings and I realized hope had won. I HAD been asleep, or doped, or duped, or all of the above. It had been such a long, long, unimaginable stretch of months and years that I had felt benumbed. So much sorrow, so much despair, so much pain, frustration, anger, impotence: a recipe for checking out. So much more hopeless than hopeful.

And on a dime, it turned. This is what helped break the shell that had engulfed me:

OBAMA'S WHIRLWIND FIRST DAY: ECONOMY, WAR AND MORE
(from an article by David Espo, AP Special Correspondent)

In his first day at work (after dancing at inaugural balls past midnight with first lady Michelle Obama), President Barack Obama entered the Oval Office and:

• summoned top military officials to the White House to chart a new course in Iraq
• issued new ethics rules for his administration
• hosted a reception at the presidential mansion for 200 inauguration volunteers and guests selected by an Internet lottery
• took the oath of office again
• presented a draft of an executive order that would close the detention facility at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, within a year and halt all war crimes trials in the interim
• presided over the White House meeting on the economy
• made phone calls to leaders in the Middle East to convey his "commitment to active engagement in pursuit of Arab-Israeli peace from the beginning of his term"
• announced to his staff that "As of today, lobbyists will be subject to stricter limits than under any ... other administration in history." The restrictions included a ban on gifts by lobbyists to anyone serving in the administration.
• imposed a pay freeze for about 100 White House aides who earn $100,000 or more
• dropped by a party for his staff at a packed DC Armory, telling his supporters that they deserve credit for his historic election victory, in part because they didn't know any better. (He said they simply didn't know that a guy like him shouldn't win, that their fundraising model wasn't typical and that the odds were stacked against them.)
• Obama and his wife also played host and hostess for a select 200 at an open house. "Enjoy yourself, roam around," a smiling Obama told one guest. "Don't break anything." [Yes, Virginia, he has a real sense of humor!!]

Furthermore, within hours of Obama's inauguration on Tuesday, his administration froze last-minute Bush administration regulations before they could take effect. Among them was an Interior Department proposal to remove gray wolves from Endangered Species protections in much of the northern Rocky Mountains, and a Labor Department recommendation that would allow companies that manage employee retirement plans to market investment products to plan participants.

No, I haven't gone silly. OK, all right, sillier. Barack Obama is not a magician, and he certainly cannot solve all of our nation's ailments in a single stroke. If he could, he'd be a superhero, and he wouldn't need the White House. And he's not a progressive with an agenda just like mine. But what he is starting out to be is an ethical man with a solid moral compass who can and will serve as the example our poor bedraggled nation needs. With a laundry list like that for his first day at work, he's impressed me enough that I dare to hold hope in my heart that my homeland can be saved -- and to give me a reason to get back to helping that effort with energy and trust. Starting with recalling how to honor and respect the President of the United States. Giving him his due props, and giving him a chance to do right by all of us, his fellow citizens.

Near the end of the day, I got this from a friend. Despite all the rambling above, it pretty much sums up how I feel at this moment:

Dear World,

We, the United States of America, your top quality supplier of the ideals of liberty and democracy, would like to apologize for our 2001-2008 interruption in service.

The technical fault that led to this eight-year service outage has been located, and the software responsible was replaced November 4, 2008.

Early tests of the newly installed program indicate that we are now operating correctly, and we expect it to be fully functional on January 20, 2009.

We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the outage. We look forward to resuming full service and hope to improve in years to come.

We thank you for your patience and understanding.

Sincerely,

THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


Good night America, and may whatever deity you choose to believe in (even None) bless you.