![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Class didn't disappoint after such a pleasant morning, though I was unreasonably sleepy during Historical Ling. It was fun anyway, in that surreal linguistic reconstruction kind of way. Aural skills was nice, since I passed out for this week, and Ling Analysis was entertaining; Dr. E was in fine form. I get to analyze the grammar of the Huanaco dialect of Quechua for my language report. Excellent.
Vocal rep was more of a snooze than usual, possibly because there was no section of newly written book to proof, but I'm glad we're finally in Britain. Dan and his amazing secret key to Susanne's studio facilitated a halfhearted practicing of the Bell Song before he fell asleep on the floor, at which point I practiced even more quietly. I dunno if I'm going to be able to coach on that song for Wednesday. Especially with Tom, who still thinks it's a bizarre thing for me to be singing (as do I). Having let Dan sleep for a good fifteen minutes, I decided it was time to wait for Chorale among the denizens of the black couches.
Chorale was hilarious, as usual, and we finally got the Paert scores. Everyone was complaining, but, remembering my experience of his St. John Passion, I tried to convince them it'd grow on them. I love the starkness and clarity and relentlessness of the repetition, which makes it so much clearer when the affect changes. I don't know, maybe I'm just a sap remembering a good experience and applying the memory where it's irrelevant. Those were good years, the quartet was spectacular, containing Karim, and the performance was the first time I'd actually read the story of the Passion, translating the Latin to myself. The Paert style was very effective with that text. I could hardly sing.
Stephan was fixated on soup on the way out of Chorale, and Jacob seemed to be at a loss, and he's the epitome of the cool, so I snagged him as Stephan and I made our spastic, mannerism-saturated, slightly obnoxious way to Patu. It was like treating amiable but slightly blue royalty, with the weight of the world on his shoulders; it reminded me of how we all think of Bryan as on a level above ours. It's not anything he does, or any attitude he presents, it's just his inherent personal coolness and our inherent desire to... I guess, to put it selfishly, acquire some of his coolness by being of use to him. Or even just know him. Being in the presence of coolness is especially encouraging when the proprietor of coolness knows you exist.
Anyway, it was fun taking Jacob out, and then rehearsal was fun and fairly productive. It's not been as ridiculous a cast coagulation as the Sid musical, partially because my part is not nearly so central and thus I am present at fewer rehearsals, and partially because it's a different cast and I don't think a set of circumstances as auspicious as those can ever be repeated.
Multitudinous thanks to my beneficient mother, we got the tape of tonight's Studio 60 and brought it back here to watch. I suppose my evening might be happier if I... fixed all the personal problems of my close friends and people I admire, became fully possessed of the vocal technique I'll have in fifteen years, instantly lost fifty pounds with no trouble, and acquired the ability to do arithmetic with no self-conscious insecurity... But really, I can't think of a better way for an evening to proceed otherwise.
Vocal rep was more of a snooze than usual, possibly because there was no section of newly written book to proof, but I'm glad we're finally in Britain. Dan and his amazing secret key to Susanne's studio facilitated a halfhearted practicing of the Bell Song before he fell asleep on the floor, at which point I practiced even more quietly. I dunno if I'm going to be able to coach on that song for Wednesday. Especially with Tom, who still thinks it's a bizarre thing for me to be singing (as do I). Having let Dan sleep for a good fifteen minutes, I decided it was time to wait for Chorale among the denizens of the black couches.
Chorale was hilarious, as usual, and we finally got the Paert scores. Everyone was complaining, but, remembering my experience of his St. John Passion, I tried to convince them it'd grow on them. I love the starkness and clarity and relentlessness of the repetition, which makes it so much clearer when the affect changes. I don't know, maybe I'm just a sap remembering a good experience and applying the memory where it's irrelevant. Those were good years, the quartet was spectacular, containing Karim, and the performance was the first time I'd actually read the story of the Passion, translating the Latin to myself. The Paert style was very effective with that text. I could hardly sing.
Stephan was fixated on soup on the way out of Chorale, and Jacob seemed to be at a loss, and he's the epitome of the cool, so I snagged him as Stephan and I made our spastic, mannerism-saturated, slightly obnoxious way to Patu. It was like treating amiable but slightly blue royalty, with the weight of the world on his shoulders; it reminded me of how we all think of Bryan as on a level above ours. It's not anything he does, or any attitude he presents, it's just his inherent personal coolness and our inherent desire to... I guess, to put it selfishly, acquire some of his coolness by being of use to him. Or even just know him. Being in the presence of coolness is especially encouraging when the proprietor of coolness knows you exist.
Anyway, it was fun taking Jacob out, and then rehearsal was fun and fairly productive. It's not been as ridiculous a cast coagulation as the Sid musical, partially because my part is not nearly so central and thus I am present at fewer rehearsals, and partially because it's a different cast and I don't think a set of circumstances as auspicious as those can ever be repeated.
Multitudinous thanks to my beneficient mother, we got the tape of tonight's Studio 60 and brought it back here to watch. I suppose my evening might be happier if I... fixed all the personal problems of my close friends and people I admire, became fully possessed of the vocal technique I'll have in fifteen years, instantly lost fifty pounds with no trouble, and acquired the ability to do arithmetic with no self-conscious insecurity... But really, I can't think of a better way for an evening to proceed otherwise.