(no subject)

[sanura]

It's that time; I'm always stymied by the salient alternation between idyllic lazing, frenetic procrastination, and the uncomfortable use of stolen leisure that accompany the last few days before a major paper is due. I've been spending more courteous amounts of time with the gobs of family staying at my house, going with the kids on walks around campus, bringing them painting when Dan calls for a hand at his and Meghan's newly leased house, spending obscenely wasteful amounts of time reading for pleasure in a tree in the Menil park with Meghan and teaching Wendy how to climb, or watching the really good old Disney movies. John's recital even drew Gail's family for awhile. Dan left a couple hours after the painting, dragging me from his bed to say goodbye in the grip of the deep night, and Stephan's unreasoning calls followed in the morning asking for the best directions to the airport. He made it, and now they're both gone, and Ben in Austin.

Eric and Michael left yesterday and I was prepared for another night of priming Meghan's kitchen and living room, with Wendy and Gene fully excited and in paint clothes with extra rollers; it fell through when exhaustion caught up with Meghan and we never got a response, so I took some supplies to Stephan's and prepared to write in the morning.

There was incense burning on the couch when I reached the top of the stairs. I'd just carried bags into Stephan's room and was coming back to the living room for the clothes I'd left, when Bryan emerged from his lair into the kitchen. I greeted him, but he seemed taken aback, and retreated behind his closing door with a remark that was probably less hurtful than it felt under the influence of exhaustion. Still, having just disappointed Wendy and Gene, read a rather sad passage in my book, and stressed about the coming paper, I succumbed to self-pity and sulked to sleep in Stephan's bed. This morning, the extent of our exchange has been a "good morning" after my "hi" on seeing him peeking around Stephan's door. I haven't gone out of my way to engage him, since he's obviously in solitary hermitage-work mode. I'd do well to follow his example, but there's so much else I'd rather do. There are still two days to write a ten-page paper, and I've done such in one night before. I haven't yet psyched myself up to the effort.

But I'm much closer following a perusal of the internet I'd abandoned for three days. For what should appear at the end of my unread email queue, after registration reminders, a harrowing discovery that I'd missed an aria coaching, and notice of the death of another Rice undergraduate, than an unassuming little missive of 16kb under the title "Re: Street Scene", from none other than Kip Wilborn?


> Dear Mr. Wilborn,
>
> I'm a student of opera at the Shepherd School of Music of Rice
> University in
> Houston. We're gearing up for a production of Street Scene, so we
> watched the
> original Vidor movie, I went and saw our cross-town rival's
> production, and I
> bought the 1994 German HGO DVD. I've watched it six times in the
> past three
> days, and I thought I'd write you a bit of fan mail.
Dear Ryan,
Thanks for your note. Please call me Kip. Mr. Wilborn is my dad.
>
> Struggling with music on the stage, my first real opera class, and
> a scenes
> program, I've learned a lot in the past year about singing and
> acting at the
> same time. I'm sure you're aware of the astounding amount of
> expression you
> manage to pack into your singing, but I was just as impressed by
> how fully you
> inhabited the character physically.
thank you
> Sam the ineffectual, Sam the pathetically
> sweet, Sam the head-over-heels in doomed love, with subtext clearer
> than
> glass--he makes me cry, sometimes.
Wow
> The skillful singing itself, of course, and
> the heartbreakingly beautiful voice, blow my mind. But when they're
> immersed so
> fully in the service of the music and the story, rather than just
> showing
> themselves off, the effective impact of the opera is hugely
> multiplied.
Keep these ideals in front of you. The survival of our art form is
dependent on a continuing tradition of good singing and ever
increasing theatrical values. Sing well first and make good theater.
>
> I wish I'd been there to see it live, but I love this DVD to death,
> and I'm very
> glad you were in it to show us all how it's done. Thank you for it.

If you are ever nearby when I'm in concert or opera, please say
hello. Also, the door is always open if you have career questions.

All the best,

Kip
>
> With great admiration,
> Ryan Stickney, soprano

Kip Wilborn
kip@kipwilborn.com

...the best way to predict your future is to create it.

please visit:
www.kipwilborn.com

skype: kiptenor


I am much heartened.

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