Y Mas Que Nada Amor
Days away from opening night of Ainadamar at Indiana University, and I have to be careful to remain in the moment. It’s so tempting to constantly worry about the future and think of the next thing down the line, but in doing so you rob yourself of the joy of the here and now. For me, the struggle is to not let the “post show blues” sink in before the show is actually over. But that feeling is hovering in the shadows ready for the curtain to come down the final time and I have to resume my “regular life.” There’s a similar struggle after rehearsing a single show, or even a single piece of music. In the repetition we have to resist the temptation to let muscle memory take over and just get the job done.
The Musical Art Center at Indiana University
Forgive, the language, but a few years ago at an Redwoods Opera Workshop I was given the “subtext…bitch” award, because I was always pushing myself and others to think about the underlying reasons behind the words we were singing and the gestures we were using. That’s how you keep the show fresh in your mind and therefore for the audience. You have to think not just the practical reason behind your decisions to move or emote, but the impetus for those decisions. Otherwise, the show happens at you and it’s gone before you can blink. In worrying about what I will feel like when the show is over, I’m taking away the opportunity to feel the joy, heartbreak, and hope that I want the audience to take away from my performance.
Proof of award…
I also take away the feeling of community and security that we have built within the cast and staff of the show. I have worked with some amazing people in the past at Indiana University of Pennsylvania, Kansas State University, and countless other institutions and organizations. Ainadamar will always hold a special place in my heart. This role has demanded much of my vocal and acting talent, and the safety to express without judgement has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. From director Jeffery Buchman, to choreographer Rosa Mercedes, Maestro Neely, to the cast, the chorus, the dancers, the technical crew, costume and make up. There are too many people to thank and too many I risk omitting. I have been dreaming of this moment for months, years really, when I finally release whatever inhibitions were holding me back from committing to myself as an artist. I could not have done so without these talented, generous, and genuine artists.
A fuzzy photo of Cream Cast killing it during dress rehearsal. Set design by artist Gronk. Stage direction, Jeffery Buchman.
This story means so much to me. I have said as much in previous blogs. Lorca wanted nothing else but to make art, love, and be loved in return. He was someone who lived in the moment. He was taken too soon because he dared to live a life of authenticity and speak the truth about life as he observed and experienced it. Too many before him, too many in the years leading to this moment, and sadly too many after these moments have passed will experience the same fate. To quote an often used phrase from my years in the Cook Honors College, “what therefore should we do?”
A mezzo in some pants…Make-up and hair by Andrew Elliot. Costume designer Camille Deering.
We continue. We make art. We shout our truths loudly and often. We love who we love and we tell the stories of those who no longer can. We elevate voices that have been silenced for too long and we speak truth to power again and again until we are finally heard. It is a risk, as Ainadamar poignantly reminds us. And as artists it is our obligation to take those risks. Do not dwell in the future that is constantly shifting and always out of reach. Remember the past, but do not live there because like a statue it is immovable. Live for today. Take to the stage and make it your own, because no one will give it to you. You have to claim it.