This week I was cast as the Evil Sorceress in an opera- I’m a man (biologically), mind you- but I always thought myself more the heroine. After all, my magic is of Light. Even when my song is the dimmest firefly, I still glimmer along, dancing luminescence in my coloratura. A clean, vinegar, kitty kiss purity is my greatest wish.
And yet this week and the next and 8 after that, I’m the unsexed Lady Macbeth- slinging stormy spells with my weyard sisters. I must have become heavy! Heavy in my face, heavy in my timbre, heavy like the smoke from the woodland sage candle I just snuffed (guess I’m already being witchy).
Starting from this week on, I’ll cry for the end of Carthage, where I could have been Queen…and what a diadem I would have worn. But if I’m to be grotesque, I’ll be grotesque- beautifully and nastily. Already I hum and my cat flies to my breast. I’ll fill my repertoire with tritones and diminished chords that never resolve. I’ll write it all myself. I’ll do it.
And as for Dido?
…Dido is dead.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (4 so far!)
Thanks very much!
- #1440 Posted 6 years ago
Way to get into a role!
- #1443 Posted 6 years ago
To give a bit of a frame of reference, this is an autobiographical piece, and I really was just cast as the Sorceress in the opera Dido and Aeneas after being called back for both Dido and the Sorceress. These are just some of my thoughts about how perhaps my voice and I have changed, how that plays into the plot of the opera in several different contexts, and what it means for me.
- #1447 Posted 6 years ago
- Published 6 years ago.
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Interesting. Very interesting. There is a lot going on here and while I know that I don't understand all of it, I can appreciate it.