Handel is, like, so wacky

Hi! I have a few moments tonight while the singers slave away at their sitzprobe (literally "seated rehearsal"- and that's what it's called in America, too!). That's when the singers and the orchestra get together and just do the music without the staging.

So a bit of a reprieve. Which is good because yesterday and this morning I really felt like I was coming down with something. I think it must be a combination of the crazy dusty theater, the mold in this apartment, the pollen, and not sleeping so well. (The other night I woke up at 4am to finish a scene-by-scene description of the opera for the dancers, tech people, and costume people. I have to say that I rather enjoyed that, though. It made me feel like super girl. "I can do anything!" But probably not so healthy.)

Anyway, the fun part is coming up. We have our first dress rehearsal tomorrow. We meet the falcon on Monday. Jeremy is coming on Tuesday, and he'll stay to see the public dress and hang out with me on our day off.

My two favorite parts out of the opera that I perform are this little 16 measure dance at the top of Act II with a bird on my hand (my little puppet!), and my pantomime of Persephone in Orlando's mad scene. I'm behind a scrim, and start out nice, but then become menacing. What a mad scene!! Handel really pulled out all the stops-- there is no other piece of baroque music like it (I think). Time signature changes and schitzophrenic singing.

The flying chariot is totally awesome.

Hi from Göttingen!

Sorry folks, that I have been such a bad blogger. On April 6th, I took the train up to the mid-sized town of Göttingen to work at the Handel festival. Catherine Turocy, of the world-famous New York baroque Dance Company, is directing the opera Orlando (remember that crazy poem I told you about?), and I am her assistant. It has been quite an experience so far (I go back home May 13th) seeing how the opera is put together; keeping track of all the singers' movements, gestures, and entrances and exits; thinking about complicated sets and lighting-- basically all of the stuff that can make opera a big, delicious, mind-expanding experience.

I can't wait to see how the special effects we are planning will really work-- there will be a chariot with fireworks on the wheels that flies across the stage at the end of Act II (with 2 people inside! but not me :( ), a magical fountain that appears to hide one of the characters (make out of ribbon, I think), and a real-live falcon the swoops from the balcony to the stage and lands on the arm of Zoroaster. That's right, Zoroaster. Trippy.

More later!!

Sad News

Aunt Colleen passed away on Wednesday. I will miss her terribly; however, I will always cherish the wonderful memories I have of our times together.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

Aunt Colleen

This feels a little weird to be writing about in a blog, but my Aunt Colleen is in a critical condition in the hospital. I love her so much, and it is almost unbearably painful to be so far away from her right now.
She is a brilliant teacher, a truly patient person, and was still teaching before she went into the hospital. My brother and I were very close to her and our Uncle Nelson when we were growing up. We would stay at their house and play games, and they even came to a few of my dance recitals (this is a proof of extreme love because there are few things more boring than a 5 hour long dance recital-- full of awkward teenagers with a few adorable groups of small children dressed as bunnies or flowers thrown in for relief). If you are a person who normally prays, please include her in your prayers.

Auslander Party Time!

My German class is over! We had a little party on the last day with food from everyone's country (I made Guacamole-- close enough, right?). My teacher (she's in the middle, next to me) asked me to show a dance, and because I am a masochist, I decided to try to teach an 18th c. contredanse. I though it would be good practice for me because I have to teach some German schoolchildren when I go up to Göttingen for the opera in April, but adults are SO MUCH HARDER to teach than children. The actual teaching in German was not quite as flustering as I thought, but, to be safe, for the schoolchildren I am going to write the whole thing out and memorize it like a play. I want to be über-prepared. I also want to try to fit the prefix "über" into as many blog entries as possible.

In case you were wondering what the scary no-doors elevator looked like, here it is! I admit that I did ride it 3 times when I was feeling lazy. Fun Fact: It takes exactly the same amount of time to ride up two floors in the crazy elevator as it takes to climb the stairs.




I am in the middle of writing applications for choreography residences and group shows right now. It is kind of a mind-numbing process to try to convince people that what you do is important and exciting. Sample imaginary one-sided conversation with a dance presenting organization: "What do you mean you've never heard of baroque dance?" "All the cool kids are doing it." "Of course it is still relevant today!" "It's very sexy, ok?" "And also exciting." "Terribly exciting, if I show you one of my dances you just may faint." "Look, you might like it if you try it!" "Just try it!" "Please?"

More Hymenopteran Lovin'

So, on Saturday morning after I put up the Nasonia movie, I went out to water our plants, and walked on on these guys frolicking among the marjoram. It seemed like a big enough coincidence to warrant making a video and posting it here. Don't worry, I am not trying to turn this into an insect mating blog.

Loud Americans

I have been harboring the suspicion for some time that Jeremy and I are the loudest people in the building. Whenever the Germans we know start complaining about people not respecting the Sunday Quiet Rules or etc, I mentally shrug my shoulders and think, "I never hear anyone."

I met my downstairs neighbor this afternoon on the stairs-- she's a really nice woman who is German, but grew up in Argentina. We exchanged pleasantries about how it's weird we don't see each other for months even though we live in the same building, etc. etc. Then she said, "I hear you all the time, though." I made a slightly embarrassed face. "Oh, it doesn't bother me. I always hear you laughing. It's so nice."

Are you kidding me?? I hardly ever hear a peep out of anyone in this crazy building, and the woman directly below me can hear me laughing?? So it is confirmed. We are the loudest people in the building, if not the whole block. It kinda makes me feel like a silly stereotype of an Italian couple, always screaming and singing and, of course, laughing.

But then, it might not be a German/American thing. It might just be because Jeremy is so awfully funny.