Skip to main content

Upcoming Opera

I am performing with the Pine Mountain Music Festival this week, in Houghton, Michigan, and we are premiering an opera. Rockland, by Jukka Linkola, is about a 1906 mining strike in the Upper Peninsula.

As is often the case when I play opera, I have only half a sense of the piece. I know what is going on in the pit, and I can more or less hear the singers, but certainly I can't catch enough words to follow the story, and I can't see any of the stage action or sets.

What I know is that the music is very listenable. It sounds kind of like a Sibelius-influenced John Williams without the catchy hooks. There are some really beautiful moments. The orchestration is a little heavy and we have to work a bit to play softly enough for the singers, but it's not terribly difficult now that we've been through it a few times.

What I know is that although Rockland may not be the next La Boheme, I am so pleased to be a part of this project. It is wonderful to me that even in this age of electronic music and self-produced albums designed for iPods there is still room for a large-scale work of classical music. There are still people who believe in opera as a living art form. There is enough support to get a brand new piece conceived of, written, rehearsed, and produced, with professional singers and musicians, and real sets and costumes. The piece has been six years in the making - opera takes that long - and is deeply interwoven with the history and the people of this beautiful area.

What I know is that as much as a hassle as it is to get up here - ten hours of driving with a two-year-old - and as much as I wish we were making more money or gaining more fame by being here, I am so grateful to be at this festival. This is a working week that feels like a vacation because of the spectacular surroundings, light schedule, and friends old and new. Steve and I have come up almost every year since 1998, and although we only stay here on the Keweenaw peninsula for a week or two each summer it has become a very special place for us. Long may it last!

Performances are Friday night and Sunday afternoon, and more information is available HERE.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Blog has MOVED

 Have you been waiting ... and waiting ... and WAITING for a new Prone Oboe post?  Don't wait here anymore!  The blog has moved to https://jennetingle.com/prone-oboe/  and will not be updated here on Blogger anymore.  Please come and check me out there!  I love you all - stay safe out there!  Jennet

How Do You WISH You Could Describe Your Reeds?

In Reed Club last Monday, we took a moment before we started scraping to set some intentions.  We each said one word - an adjective to describe what we WANTED our reeds to be.  An aspirational adjective. Efficient was a word that came up, and Consistent . Dark and Mysterious . Mellow . Predictable .  Trustworthy .  Honest .  BIGGER . Reed affirmations actually felt helpful - both in the moment and in the results we found as we worked.  I don't know why that surprises me - I set intentions at the beginning of the year, at the beginning of the month, at the beginning of a run, in the morning before I work.  I love a good affirmation.  I love WORDS.  But I'd sort of forgotten about the possibility of applying one to the mundane work of reed-making.   You don't have to know exactly how to GET to that result.  But having clarity in your mind about what that result is?  Helps you to stop going down unhelpful rabbit holes...

Don't Wait For It

 Don’t wait for it. The lowest notes on the oboe are notoriously difficult to play. They don’t want to speak, they MIGHT splatter, they are SLOW to respond, they feel flat. And if your instrument is even slightly out of adjustment, they can be even more resistant - sometimes literally impossible. And some students WAIT for that low note to come before they go on, and THIS disrupts the rhythm, the tempo, the flow of the piece, and the musical line they are trying to create.  It distracts the listeners, it throws the ensemble off.  The pianist has to lurch to catch them, the conductor has to stop and yell.   One missed note, or one note that doesn’t quite speak - THAT doesn’t ruin your communication. But the distraction and disruption for both you and your listener that happens when YOU acknowledge the problem, when YOU make us all wait patiently for the response of a low C - that’s when you lose us. I think every low note has three possibilities within it. 1. It ...