Only Zul

So there's this guy in Philly Singers that has a tendency to rub people the wrong way, and because I don't really dislike him (most of the time), I will only refer to him as Zul from now on. If you get the reference, great. If not, oh well. Those of you who know him and like him, and those of you who know him and dislike him, please remember that I'm not trying to ruin his reputation or anything like that. If you don't know him, I'm not going to tell you what his real name is.

Zul and I actually have a lot in common, including, both having been in the same vocal quintet in New York (although not at the same time). We've sung in various Philadelphia choruses together, and we both live in New Jersey and have often carpooled to and from rehearsals. He was doing the Berio/Wagner concert with me, and we sat next to each other on the bus up to New York for the Carnegie Hall concert.

Sometimes he has a tendency to be a little self-centered, which is pretty normal for a singer, especially a tenor (sorry, guys, I had to get at least one dig in). But he was being pretty self-centered and ADD-like during the bus ride, and by the time we had gotten to New York, I was ready to get away from him for a while. I pulled SK aside and asked if we could have lunch before the rehearsal. She said sure, as long as I didn't mind eating with JT. That was fine with me, and we got ready to go to lunch. Unfortunately, Zul appeared out of nowhere and said, "Hey, what are you doing for lunch?" I said, "Well, SK and I are having lunch with JT."

Pause. Uncomfortable silence. Please don't ask to tag along. Please, please, please don't ask. "Do you mind if I tag along?" he asked. Grr. "SK, do you mind?" I asked. She looked at me and shook her head slowly. "Okay, then!" he smiled and followed us out of the building.

Now you have to understand that JT really doesn't like Zul. "I'm Switzerland about it," said SK. "Really? Because I think I'm Hitler, and he's a Jew," replied JT. Wow. "Guys, I'm so sorry about this," I mutter.

I have to say that JT was very polite, especially for Hitler. We chatted and told stories. I told the story of how Ray and I met, and because the end usually evokes an "aww" from my audience, and these girls were no exception. But Zul had to pull the attention off me and back onto him by saying, "Didn't you and Ray have problems about a year and a half ago? Weren't you thinking about leaving him?" Umm...no, not that I remember, Zul. Why would he be so rude? "It sounds like Ray and Maren have a pretty healthy relationship to me, Zul," quipped SK. "You wouldn't understand, SK. This has to do with something you just don't understand," griped Zul. What?!? Did I lead him on? Did I somehow make him think that Ray and I were having problems and that I wanted to turn to him? God, I hope not.

Anyway, conversation after that became more and more tense. It was almost like Zul was alternately flirting with and quarrelling with SK, ending the afternoon by interrupting one of SK's stories by saying, "Boy, you sure like to talk, don't you?" Then he kind of backpedaled once he realized that what he said was pretty rude, saying, "I mean that in a good way." Oh, sure. JT was amused. Finally, he had to go to the men's rehearsal and left us to breathe a sigh of relief.

Singin' in the Slush

So on top of Aida rehearsals, I'm also singing lots and lots with the Philadelphia Singers. Right now we're performing this concert with the Philadelphia Orchestra of Berio and Wagner. The Berio piece is just men, and it's in the first half. The Wagner is a concert version of Act III of Parsifal, and the women don't come in until the last 3 minutes of the piece. Since we represent the Holy Grail, they decided that the women should be relegated to the balcony so our voices can waft down as if from heaven. As a result, we've had to show up at intermission, climb over people to get to our seats, and sit through an hour and a half of the most boring Wagnerian posturing to sing 12 measures at the very end. Argh. Well, at least it's a paycheck. And tomorrow, our last performance, we're doing it at Carnegie Hall in New York.

The next Philly Singers thing is a concert version of the John Adams's The Death of Klinghoffer with the Curtis Institute. I have no idea how that's going to go, but since it's John Adams, it'll probably be pretty hard. Throughout all these rehearsals, I'll still be rehearsing and/or performing Aida and still working at the word processing agency a couple days a week. January has three days off for me. Only three. And February is starting to fill up too.

Random Ramblings

Our New Year's Eve party went well. Josh & Jill ended up cleaning the house, which was great, because there was no way in hell I had any time to pitch in and help. The Masur New Year's Eve concert (Beethoven's 9th, of course) went well, too, and as I was walking back to my car after the concert, I got a call from JF. He was driving into New York, he said, and he'd heard the concert on the radio. He wanted to apologize for not getting back to me about coming to the open dress (I had a free ticket and had invited him), but apparently he had just come in from Canada (?!?) that morning, and wouldn't have been able to make it anyway. Then he said, "What are you doing now?"

I told him that I was on my way to get my car so I could drive home. He said, "You should come down to Times Square and hang out with me!" I was like, no, my roommates are having a party, and besides, I want to be home by midnight to kiss my boyfriend. Then he said, "You are such a sentimental sap!" I'm like, okay, whatever, JF. Just because I don't want to be mobbed by hundreds of thousands of people and I actually want to be with my boyfriend on New Year's Eve I'm a sap. Oy.

Aida rehearsals have started. Of course, I'm frustrated with Elbows, who can't count or speak Italian (remember, she couldn't speak French for Faust?), and she has this really annoying habit of singing the solo parts badly and then forgetting to cue us in. Not only that, but she can't hear where we're messing up. Luckily, our accompanist rocks. She has taken over the job of singing our cues, and she actually can sing the Italian well, play the piano, and help us come in.

We've got 75 people in the chorus, which should be oh-so-interesting when we get on stage. The stage seemed crowded with 45 people for Faust. I'm not sure how they're going to fit 75 chorus members and 40+ supers, as well as the soloists on the stage. They're going to have to use the whole stage, which means that there's not going to be any backstage, which will be tough when all 75 of us have to sing backstage. I'm just going to have to be very patient for the staging rehearsals.