Blog: in my own wordsBlog: in my own wordshttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2012-10-15T04:50:07ZSquarespaceSpring Recaphttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2012/10/14/spring-recap.htmlheidi2012-10-15T04:22:08Z2012-10-15T04:22:08ZAfter the Met Ring Cycles ended spring went in to high gear with some wonderful, incredible events. 

I had always been slated to go to the Deutsche Oper in April to sing Helmwige in two performances of Walküre.  However, as I was walking to dinner with a couple of friends, I received an email that would change that. “Our Sieglinde has withdrawn. How do you feel about singing her instead?”

Yes. The answer is yes. Of course there were nerves involved. I’m a Virgo. I like being in control of situations and this was most certainly not in control. However, Nike’s slogan always comes to mind in situations like this.  “Just do it.”  

So I did.  

One of my favorite roles in one of my favorite houses with Maestro Runnicles conducting, Torsten Kerl as Siegmund, Greer Grimsley as Wotan, Catherine Foster as Brünnhilde, Daniele Sindram as Fricka and Atilla Jun as Hunding. Boy was I a lucky lady.  

Also – I got to wear Julia Varady’s apron and Violeta Urmana’s costumes. I can say that I felt pretty dang special.

After the whirlwind that Walküre was, I headed back to Karlsruhe to stage and sing my first Marschallin in Rosenkavalier. We had less than two weeks to go from start to performance and with any piece that can prove difficult. With Rosenkavalier, it seemed impossible. I am pleased to report that we did it! Yay! “Die zeit, die ist ein sonderbar Ding.”. Any time that I can sing Strauss I am a happy lady, and this was no exception.

In the middle of the run of Rosenkavalier, I was able to escape to Jackson Hole, Wyoming for a week and sing in the Grand Teton Music Festival. Jackson Hole is an incredibly beautiful place — raw, natural and just heavenly. Once again, Walküre was on the menu. Once again, Maestro Runnicles was at the helm and once again, I counted myself as the luckiest soprano around.  Stuart Skelton was an amazing Siegmund (so wonderful to be reunited with him after singing my first Sieglinde with him in 2009!) and Donnie Ray Albert was an incredible Wotan. The orchestra at Jackson Hole was something incredibly special. Made up of members of the top orchestras in the US, it is like a summer band camp for adults. They were incredible and played with such amazing sound. I really hope to be able to work with them again.

Photo by Ashley Wilkerson

After that, I went back to Germany to finish the run of Rosenkavalier and sing some Beethoven 9ths.

Then vacation!! I took my first ever, real vacation this year. Hawaii. For ten days. Worth every penny.

There may have been diet coke involved.

I then went to Texas to visit my gorgeous sister and my beautiful nieces.  They are really the loves of my life.

My sister couldn’t be any more beautiful.

After that, I had planned on going to San Francisco for some study time, but received a call from my manager saying that the soprano one in Aspen’s Mahler Eight had withdrawn and he was wondering if I could learn and sing it. Again, Nike. It is such a monumental and incredible piece and I was so happy to have been able to be a part of it. It was also very special in that seven of the eight soloists were doing the piece for the first time, as was Maestro Spano. What an amazing experience and one that I will definitely treasure for the rest of my life.

The ladies of the Mahler 8. Sasha Cooke, Meredith Arwady, Amber Wagner, Heidi Melton and Esther Heideman.

Symphony of a thousand. (Or in this case 549. Whoa.)

And that takes me up to today. Rested. Relaxed and getting ready to start the 2012/2013 season next week.  Die zeit, die ist ein sonderbar Ding indeed.

— heidi

]]>The New RINGhttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2012/9/19/the-new-ring.htmlheidi2012-09-20T02:01:54Z2012-09-20T02:01:54ZI have to admit, being part of the new Metropolitan Opera Ring Cycle was a pretty cool gig. ;-) I feel that this particular blog entry needs a bullet point list of reasons why it was awesome.

(Heidi Melton, Betsy Bishop and Maria Radnor)

  • Wagner at the Met. Enough said.
  • Getting to explore and live in NYC for a few months. Winter in NYC is gorgeous.
  • Being on a postcard. Not gonna lie.
  • Amazing, awesome, kind, talented, booty-kicking colleagues.
  • Working with geniuses like Robert LePage
  • Being a part of the Met HD in movies and having my sweet nieces be able to see Aunty Heidi in the movie theaters. It made me feel that the little ladies were better able to understand why I have to go so long between visits.
  • Making some life long friends.
  • Did I mention Wagner? 

I am one heck of a lucky lady. Can’t wait to go back next year!

Amazing ladies: Maria Radnor and Karen Cargill at Chelsea Market.

— heidi

]]>Mein lieber Fußball Feld??http://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2012/9/12/mein-lieber-fuball-feld.htmlheidi2012-09-13T05:04:58Z2012-09-13T05:04:58ZWhat does a singer do when they have absolutely no idea how to make a production make sense to them??

This was a question I was forced to answer when I sang my first Lohengrin this spring.

I realize that Lohengrin lends itself to crazy, concept-y ideas more than most and was completely prepared (or so I thought) to be bombarded with quirkiness. That was, until I went to the concept meeting and was faced with singing Lohengrin in a soccer stadium. So, I started thinking right away... I suppose I can see Elsa as a cheerleader. Perhaps Ortrud is the vicious cheer coach! Lohengrin is obviously Captain of the Soccer team... however, I soon found out I was sorely mistaken.

Through the rehearsal period, I came to understand that this was actually a fairly standard production—gowns and all—just to be set on a soccer field. The wedding night to take place on an awards podium covered by the Polish flag. Confusion set in. I was at least hopeful that this would give me a chance to act for my life. However, when I was repeatedly told to "bleib still" for most of the action, confusion gave way to panic. I didn't want to "park and bark." I just didn't understand it all!

Up until this point in my career, I have never had a production that I just "didn't get." I have worked with directors in the past that perhaps I didn't see eye to eye with completely, but I had always before been able to be convinced. As the rehearsal process went along, I knew I wasn't going to be able to be convinced but I was determined to still attempt to convince the audience. I started seeking outside help.

In this particular case, I sought out an amazing woman, a former ballerina, who could help me find some fluidity and grace in an otherwise static environment. She was incredible and really helped to boost my confidence, come opening night, that I was effectively articulating what I needed to. She's an angel.

Then there is another friend—who I look up to greatly—she's kind, lovely, ridiculously talented and perhaps the nicest person ever. I wrote her a letter asking her if she had ever had an experience like this—she wrote me back and gave me some of the best advice I've ever received: try your hardest to find a middle ground—to make the part your own, even through the constraints—find a way to make it make sense to you. And if, after you've exhausted all possibilities, you still can't make it work, take the paycheck and die a little on the inside.

Of course this made me giggle—I had gotten myself wrapped up in a never-ending tornado of obsession over this. Sometimes (especially for me) the lines of work and life get blurred. This had become my LIFE. I was obsessed. But as one of my dearest friends says to me quite often "Heidi, you're singing. You're not solving world hunger. Figure it out." I'm a big fan of tough love. I just needed to be reminded that the world wouldn't end if I didn't have the most artistically edifying production of Lohengrin.

 

So, I'm thankful for this production. I'm thankful it forced me to think outside the box for ways to get my point across. I'm thankful that I was able to find a middle ground with a director without understanding or agreeing with things (ahhhh, growth). I'm incredibly thankful for an awesome, supportive cast. And I'm thankful to once again be reminded that singing is my job—an awesome job and one that I love dearly—but a job nonetheless.

Just like I believe in the separation of church and state, I believe also in the separation of job and Heidi. We can be two separate things that work well together, but I don't have to lose myself in it. And yes, I'm going to need reminding again and again and again...

— heidi

]]>An American Girl in Germanyhttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2011/11/5/an-american-girl-in-germany.htmlheidi2011-11-05T23:05:40Z2011-11-05T23:05:40ZIt is no surprise that after an experience like San Francisco Opera’s Ring Cycle, there would be a bit of an adjustment. A bit is a gross understatement.  

The day after I finished The Ring in San Francisco, I was on a plane headed to Germany, where I would begin Vorproben (pre-rehearsals) for a new production of Les Troyens at the Badisches Staatstheater Karlsruhe. I arrived and we began work. Hot, sweaty, no air-conditioning work. In Germany, (I know that I’ve mentioned this before, but indulge me please) there are two kinds of rehearsal periods. For a new production, rehearsals are upwards of six weeks. If it is a season opening premiere then sometimes they tack on four or so weeks of Vorproben as well. However, if it is a Wiederaufnahmen (a return production), sometimes you get two weeks of rehearsal and sometimes you get two days. As Ado Annie might say, with Germany, it is all or nothing. 

One nice aspect of a long rehearsal process is that you’re able to try many things out. An even nicer aspect, however, is that you’re able to toss out the ones that don’t work, i.e. singing “Nuit d’ivresse” while the tenor makes a fruit salad...in my cleavage.

After the Vorproben ended, I was able to have five blissful, delightful weeks of vacation. I traveled to Texas, Seattle, San Francisco, Buffalo, Toronto and NYC before heading back to Germany. It was lovely and wonderful and greatly needed. 

Once back in Germany, not only was I working full-steam ahead on Les Troyens, but I was getting all of the things done that I needed to do in order to work and live in Germany for awhile. It was an absolute disaster. I would call it a comedy of errors but I still don’t quite find it all funny. Nothing went right. Nothing at all.  However, slowly...ever so slowly, things started coming together. After a week back in Germany, which included moving into an apartment, an IKEA disaster of epic proportions, mayhem at the Visa office, yelling at the internet people, being told that I would not be able to have gas or electricity and yelling at them as well and many minutes of doing the ugly cry, I had to pack up and go to Berlin to sing Gutrune in Götterdämmerung.

Gutrune at the DOB on my birthday

Being back in Berlin was a lovely respite and as always, Wagner has a way of soothing my soul. I sang Gutrune at the Deutsche Oper with Maestro Runnicles on my birthday, and I don’t’ think that I have ever had a better one. 

However, the next day I got sick. It was a horrible cold that turned into bronchitis and sinusitis. I was able to go to the doctor (hooray for German health care) and spent most of the week in bed. I sang the second performance by the skin of my teeth and then headed back to work on Les Troyens. 

After five weeks of regular rehearsal and four weeks of pre-rehearsals, we opened Les Troyens. It was an incredibly special night for me. My first leading role in Germany. My first opera in French. My first time covering myself in head to toe blue paint. Many firsts. It was a wonderful success and I’m incredibly thankful and grateful to have been a part of it. 

Now I’m singing Didon about once a week (it is hard to program a 5 hour opera on a weeknight) and preparing for my Liederabend. I then head back to the USA (land of diet cokes and Walgreens) for Götterdämmerung at the Met. It is apparently the year of Götterdämmerung. And I am just fine with that. 

]]>The San Francisco RINGhttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2011/6/4/the-san-francisco-ring.htmlheidi2011-06-04T21:11:13Z2011-06-04T21:11:13ZI am a Wagner Geek. I admit this. Freely. I relish any chance that I have to sing his music and completely geek out in most rehearsals. Anyone who knows me, or has read any of my previous blog entries understands just how much San Francisco Opera means to me. So, it goes without saying that singing the Third Norn and my first ever complete Sieglinde in this new production of the Ring Cycle at San Francisco Opera, all under the baton of Maestro Runnicles, is about the best possible thing that this girl could wish for.

I am pinching myself on a daily basis.

*Pinch*

We began rehearsals for the Ring the second week of April and spent a lot of time figuring out the twists and turns of the Norn scene. The Norns open Götterdämmerung and provide a unique take on the events of the opera. Want more Norn-info? Click here! An often overlooked scene, we spent quite a bit of time and energy on it; changing it from something that can often read as “previously, in the Ring Cycle” to something vital and important. We had to do all of this, however, behind a scrim, on a rake, with less than three feet of space, climbing on a pile of rubble, wearing dark goggles (that easily fog), in blinding sidelight. Who says opera singers just park and bark? It has been a challenge, but an extremely rewarding one.

Then we began work on Walküre. I don’t even know how to begin to describe my experience with this. This music is so big. This story is so big. This character is so big. It is such an honor and a challenge to be able to sing this role, and I count myself fortunate each and every day to be able to do so.

Kneeling next to Siegmund (Photo by Kristen Loken Anstey)

Then there is Brandon Jovanovich. Of course I could go on about how handsome and talented he is (and he is), but what is more incredible is that he is an amazing person and colleague and I feel blessed to be able to sing my first Sieglinde alongside his first Siegmund. It is a special thing to share a rehearsal process with someone who is also doing a role for the first time. The relationship between Siegmund and Sieglinde is so complex and can easily teeter on the line between immensely sensual to downright unpalatable. An inordinate amount of care has to go into shaping it. Fortunately, Brandon and I are lucky enough to have no previously ingrained notions or stagings to work around, and we’ve been awarded the luxury of time and a long rehearsal process. This process, thankfully, has been nothing but a complete and total joy.

*Pinch*

I have fallen in love with this production. It is dirty, sexy, vulnerable, physical and above all real. I have never been so challenged in a show – having to traverse the path of an abused wife, optimistic lover, ferocious fighter, suicidal widow and ultimately to a mother fighting for her son is an immense emotional journey to undertake. Not to mention that I’ve never before been chased around stage by 8 men, had my hair pulled, been thrown to the ground and had a knife held at my throat. No one could ever accuse this production of being the least bit boring. And that is how Wagner is to me. Full of life, love and an incredible energy which penetrates every moment of the show. 

Struggling with Supernumeraries (Photo by Kristen Loken Anstey)

So I sit here tonight, having completed the first stage orchestra rehearsal for Götterdämmerung today and counting down the days until Sunday’s premiere. (And most certainly counting the days until my June 29th performance of Sieglinde.) and I’m just so thankful to be a part of this production. At this house. With this cast. This orchestra. And this Maestro. I’m so thankful, humbled, and so very honored.

*Pinch*

much love,

— heidi

]]>Ein schönes war...http://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2011/3/9/ein-schones-war.htmlheidi2011-03-09T19:37:00Z2011-03-09T19:37:00ZSometimes music, text, cast, production, city and emotional state collide. It is in these collisions that lives are altered. Ariadne auf Naxos at l'Opéra National de Bordeaux, for me, was one such encounter. 

Ariadne is one of the most complex woman that I have been privileged to inhabit. This woman FEEEEELS things. She remembers. And she LOVES. She is so full of and on fire with love that she is burning herself from the inside out. She is a hurt woman who wants nothing more than to love and be loved.  And while she spends most of the opera yearning for death, for some way to end the pain and suffering, she is, in the end, completely life and love-affirming. What a woman. ;-)


And while most Ariadne productions focus on the conventionally pretty costumes, on the funny/silly comedians, and the stoic Ariadne and Bacchus, this production really strove to reach beyond the surface, offer up a message and maybe even stir up a bit of controversy...and boy did it! 

Everything in this production was thought out, analyzed and discussed. And it was heaven. The goal was not to produce something on the surface, but to challenge the way that people thought about Ariadne, love and life. In this production, the broken Ariadne carries around a plaster Minotaur head (a small symbol of when she saved Theseus from the clasp of the Minotaur in the labyrinths). She can’t leave it. She can’t get away from it. Zerbinetta, in her efforts to show Ariadne that she needs to take life a bit lighter and that she needs to be able to go from love to love, realizes herself that she may have taken things a bit too far and ends up in a mock American Gothic-style wedding with Harlequin. And Bacchus leaves Ariadne alone in the middle of the stage at the end. 

All of these things (and so many more) challenged me (and the audience) in more ways than sometimes were comfortable. This Ariadne hurt. And there were many times that I did the “ugly” cry. But I became inspired by these ideas and by the cast that I was singing this music with. I felt that we ultimately made a difference with this production. The six weeks of rehearsing and discussing and pushing ourselves paid off and made for one of the more rewarding artistic experiences of my life.   

As for the use of the word collision, I could think of no other.

Am I battered and bruised for having sung Ariadne? Did it hurt? Yes. 

Have I ever been more naked on stage? No.

Did it make me travel to places inside of myself that were uncomfortable to say the least? Most-assuredly.

Would I change a moment of the experience? Never.

— Miss M

]]>Bordeaux: A Revelationhttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2011/2/26/bordeaux-a-revelation.htmlheidi2011-02-26T23:19:00Z2011-02-26T23:19:00ZDuring my first year as an Adler Fellow in San Francisco, I did close to 30 auditions. The audition that I remember the most vividly was for Isabelle Masset, the Directrice Adjointe Artistique de l'Opéra National de Bordeaux. I walked into my audition, nervous as always, and sang. The warmth and love I got from Isabelle was something rather incredible. After the audition, I thanked her and left the room feeling happy, but not expecting to hear anything from her again. Boy, was I wrong. Soon after the audition, I got a message from her asking if I thought I would be prepared to sing one performance (and cover the rest) of Amelia in their production of Un ballo in Maschera happening a little less than a year later. I was flabbergasted. I had no idea that, as a 25 year old, anyone would even consider me for such a thing. I was skeptical that I could do it, but I told her that I would look at the music and get back to her.

It turns out that Isabelle knew exactly what she was talking about. The role fit me like a glove. And I accepted the assignment. My first lead role. My first international experience. My first everything.

When I arrived in Bordeaux, it was a cold December day in 2007. I was away from my family for the first time EVER during the holidays and I was heartbroken. Adding to that, the fact that it was a Sunday and the entire city was closed down, the internet in my apartment wasn’t working, I had jet lag and there was no diet coke, and I was perfecting the recipe for depression. I remember sitting alone in my apartment that day and just crying. I was so alone, and so scared. I didn’t speak the language. I didn’t know the city. I didn’t have internet to even look up maps. All I knew is the address that I had to show up to the following morning for rehearsal.

I showed up an hour early. I had no idea how long it would take me to find this place, and I had been up since 4:00 am with jet lag anyhow. And that is when my world started to change. I met an incredible group of people who I would be lucky enough to spend the next 8 weeks with and we jumped into the music (the first cast Amelia wasn’t going to be at rehearsal for the first 2 ½ weeks, so I was able to really have a lot of time with the role and with the cast). After a few days, I was over jet lag, I had discovered my local grocery store, found an internet café and was even going to dinner with cast mates. Things were looking up.

I’m not saying that things were always perfect. I’m not going to lie and say that my heart wasn’t crushed when the first cast Amelia stepped into the production, and I won’t say that I didn’t end up in tears over buying the wrong light bulb (it was a particularly rough day). But I started falling in love with Bordeaux. With the cobbled winding streets, the stone buildings, the smiles of store owners when they recognized me, and with the lovely people who were kind and compassionate at every turn. The night of my first performance changed my life forever. My knees were so fluid that I didn’t know if I could move on stage. Everything was shaking, and my heart was beating out of my chest. But the downbeat happened, the show fell into place and I was transfixed on that stage. I don’t remember much during the show, but I remember finally exhaling when it was over, and then wishing that I could do it another million times.

When the offer came from Isabelle to do a full production of Tannhäuser, I jumped at the chance. This was another set of firsts – my first full-production of a leading role. My first Wagner. Some absolutely incredible firsts. And I can’t imagine another place I would have rather done it. This time, it was Spring in Bordeaux. And I fell even more in love with the city. And the people. And my cast. The warm rain and the blooming flowers certainly didn’t hurt. The city was blossoming, and I was blossoming in it. After shows, I would sometimes walk around the city, in the light spring rain reveling in the architecture. The dichotomy of old and new that I had not experienced before Bordeaux, but had somehow become such a part of my fabric. I would talk with cast mates while our feet traced the worn cobblestones, or I would listen to my iPod and run my fingers along the ancient stone of the buildings, loving the ivory dust that would collect on my fingertips. And don’t even get me started on the wines here ;-)

Now I am back for my third time, and while this time is filled with even more firsts, it is also filled with the beautiful sense of homecoming. Of belonging somewhere. Of knowing the best produce markets and where to have the yummiest al fresco coffee. And while my French is nowhere near perfect (and has gotten worse since my extended stays in Germany), I am able to get by here and communicate with the incredible Bordelais people (sometimes entirely with emphatic hand gestures).

I am here this time to sing my first Ariadne. This role has been a part of my musical heartbeat for as long as I can remember. I feeeeeeeel this role more than I wish I did sometimes, and this production staff is encouraging (and lovingly forcing) me to be more open and more naked in a performance than I have ever let myself be before. I don’t know that I have ever been a part of a production where I feel more growing pains or more healing than I do in this one. The Hofmannsthal/Strauss combination is something incredibly special. To be able to sing this music with these words is a gift that gives every single day. And to be able to sing this music with the caliber musicians that I am working with is beyond transformational. I am so grateful for every note on the page. For every second spent with my incredible colleagues on the stage and for Bordeaux and Isabelle who brought me here.

— Miss M

]]>When Autumn Leaves Start to Fallhttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2011/1/1/when-autumn-leaves-start-to-fall.htmlheidi2011-01-02T05:56:04Z2011-01-02T05:56:04ZMy, oh my, what a busy fall this was...

After being away for almost a year, I arrived back in San Francisco for the first time as a guest artist. Not a young artist. This difference may seem negligible, but I can tell you, it was huge to me. No longer did my ID badge say “Adler Fellow.”  No longer did I have to do Adler functions. I had one job...to cover the role of Aida. And, while I had covered many roles during my time as an Adler Fellow at San Francisco (Marschallin in Der Rosenkavalier, Venus in Tannhäuser, Amelia in Simon Boccanegra and Leonora in Il Trovatore), this felt oh so different. It was an honor and a pleasure, as well as a great technical stretch to work on this project. As the lovely Aida, Micaela Carosi was absent for the first week of rehearsals, it was a joy to stage and sing the role with arguably the greatest Amneris of our time, Dolora Zajick. What a stunning experience!

Shortly after the opening night, I had my first of three recital performances this fall. (Yes, I may be clinically insane for deciding to do three completely different recital programs in three months. Yikes!) This recital just so happened to be on my birthday, and it was a very memorable way to spend it. Not many ladies are lucky enough to spend their birthday with three incredibly romantic men...Wagner, Strauss and Berg! Hehehe. And, with the astounding John Parr at the piano, I just couldn’t have asked for more.

Die Walküre Bows in Edinburgh

A short two weeks after the first recital, I left for Scotland to sing Act One of Die Walküre with the BBC Scottish Symphony and Maestro Donald Runnicles. I can honestly and without a doubt say that it was simply one of the best musical experiences of my life. Being able to sing my first Sieglinde alongside the menacing Hunding of Reinhard Hagen and the powerful Siegmund of Stuart Skelton was a dream. These two men were seasoned pros at their roles, and were so kind and understanding of my debut. It was an absolute honor. It was amazing to share the debut with the members of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, who were playing this masterwork for the first time. I wish that I could fully describe the feeling of the floorboards vibrating beneath my feet during the overture, or the sensation of the cello solo in my ribcage. The orchestra was breathtaking, and it was a pleasure to share the stage with them. I truly don’t have the words to express my gratitude and joy at having Maestro Runnicles at the helm. To have a Maestro that seems to know not only what you need as a singer, but what to do to make it even more musical and poignant is a gift beyond words. I am eternally grateful to have been able to sing this role under his baton, and I am counting the days until I am able to sing it in its entirety with him next summer. HOORAY!!

After Scotland, I had a short two weeks before I went to Texas for my first ever meeting with Signore Rossini! It was a real departure for me, and worth every moment. Granted, the Rossini in questionSan Antonio Riverwalk was the Stabat Mater, but it was still out of my comfort zone! What an incredible piece of music. And, singing the famous “Inflammatus” with a full orchestra and chorus is a wonderfully powerful feeling. But, even more special than that, was that my beautiful, kind, sweet nieces were able to join me there for a few days, and I was able to share with them a little bit of what crazy Aunty Heidi does from day-to-day. My eldest niece even wanted to attend the dress rehearsal with me! She was quite amazing, sat by herself, was a participating audience member, and told me just how much she liked the music. I don’t think I could have done nearly as well when I was 7! She behaved beautifully, and even came up on stage during the pause to meet the orchestra and chorus and stand on the Maestro’s podium. I think that just may have been worthy of missing a day of school! 

Upon my return to San Francisco, I had two recitals in two weeks. The first was with the insanely musical John Churchwell, and was a preview recital for our upcoming December 1st concert with San Francisco Performances. It took place at Michael Savage’s lovely venue, Jessica’s Barn, in Calistoga. It was a very special night. There was rain on the roof, and a glowing heat lamp and mulled wine to keep everyone warm. We performed Sibelius Songs and Korngold’s Lieder des Abschieds (which have become some of my most favorite pieces ever.) The second half we spent with a selection of torch songs. It was such a memorable night for me (it is not every program that you get to sing an entire song in chest voice). We presented a version of this program again under the auspices of San Francisco Performances on December 1st to a sold out crowd. Another unforgettable night! The second recital was with the absolutely brilliant Allen Perriello, sponsored by Noe Valley Chamber Music. Noe Valley Chamber Music asked us to perform some lesser-known pieces, and to make some of them modern. We did our best to appease them and offered Barber’s Hermit Songs, Debussy’s Chansons di Bilitis, Hoiby’s Songs for Leontyne and Strauss’ Gesänge des Orients. It was a very challenging program, but I was very proud of the work that Allen and I did together. (And, I will always be grateful to Allen for helping me through the insanity of it all...and putting up with me!!!) 

In Wig & Makeup for H&GDecember 5th, I departed my beloved San Francisco for a very quick run of Hänsel und Gretel at the Deutsche Oper Berlin. It was delightful being back at the Deutsche Oper, and this production was an absolute holiday treat. We had only two days of rehearsal, and then the show was up! It was a perfect experience: the finest colleagues, gorgeous music, and being in Berlin for the holiday season. The only downside was that I came down with a heck of a cold day two of rehearsal. So I had to put on my big girl pants, go to the corner Apotheke, and make it work. It was my first time singing while really sick, and I am happy to say I made it through without having to cancel! Huzzah! After I recouped, I was able to get together with many friends, and enjoy the festive Weihnachtsmarkts of Berlin. (I may have a new Christmastime addiction!)

And, that brings me to today – January 1, 2011. Happy New Year everyone! With every New Year comes reflections on the old. What a year it was. My first professional year as a singer. My flight-plan was: Berlin to Vienna to Berlin to Karlsruhe to Berlin to Vienna to Berlin to Philadelphia to Fort Hood to Spokane to Montreal to Spokane to Fort Hood to San Francisco to Glasgow to Edinburough to San Francisco to San Antonio to San Francisco to Los Angeles to San Francisco to Berlin. PHEWF!

So Dear 2010, You’ve stretched me in ways that I cannot even begin to express. You have allowed me to share my music with many people, and even some of the nearest and dearest to my heart. You brought me back to my beginnings, and allowed me to regroup and regrow. You have been incredible. But, my new, shiny 2011 – I am so very excited for you. For 5 new leading roles. For new countries and hemispheres. For new people and new experiences. For music. Bring. It. On. 

— Miss M 

]]>“Home” is Where the Luggage Ishttp://www.heidimeltonsoprano.com/blog/2010/10/17/home-is-where-the-luggage-is.htmlheidi2010-10-18T02:18:38Z2010-10-18T02:18:38ZI’ve been asked so many times in this last year, my first professional year as a singer, where my home is. Each time, I’ve cheekily answered “my suitcases!!” And while I think it is rather funny, it seems to throw people off. They stammer, “but WHERE is your HOME??”

I find the opera singer’s concept of home to be so very different from the majority of the population. I asked an opera singer friend of mine the other day “Where do you call home?” He, originally born in Poland, calls his home Florida. He showed me lovely pictures of his home and then told me that he had only spent three weeks there this past year. This kind of story is incredibly common in my little community. We are all transplants, vagabonds, nomads. 

The Golden Gate Bridge in FogBut as I was sipping my coffee this morning, contemplating what I wanted to write for my first ever blog entry, the word home kept springing into my thoughts. Is home where you grew up? Where you went to college? Where you’ve settled into a cozy life? 

I am currently, and by all accounts, homeless. As I was approaching the end of my Adler Fellowship in November of 2009, I took a long hard look at the calendar and realized that I would only be able to spend a total of 6 weeks at “home” in the coming year. So, I packed up two (rather huge) suitcases and a very stylish carry-on (naturally) and sold the rest of my things. (I may have also sent 13 boxes of clothes, scores and precious things to storage). I figured that it was probably the only time in my life when I could actually do something this crazy. I also liked the fact that I wouldn’t have to pay rent twice every month, and I would be able to save that money for something lovely in the future. 

The first few months were rather difficult. It was strange not having all my pictures, blankets, delightful throw pillows, kitchen utensils, and most of all, my shoe collection, around me at all times. (Although the loss of a grand portion of the shoe collection was made easier by my distinct lack of coordination in NYC and the ensuing ankle injury.) However, as time went by, I started to notice that I would call each new place home. “I’m going home now” rather than “I’m going back to the apartment with the temperamental shower.” It became easier. By the time I went from NYC to Berlin in January, I had the science of my little suitcases down to an art. (I was taught by the best). Lots of black clothing, plenty of accessories and scarves, only two pairs of heels (gasp), a few pictures of my loves and a couple of Diet Cokes in my checked luggage. (Coca-Cola Light is just wrong). It was funny, but whether I was unpacking my luggage for six days or six months, it somehow felt like home.


A Flower Cart in Bordeaux

Since I left my sweet little “home” almost a year ago, I have called New York City, Berlin, Vienna, Philadelphia, Montreal, Fort Hood, San Francisco, Glasgow and Edinburgh home. And in this past year, I have met some of the most incredible people and have sung some of the most sublime music. I’ve realized through all of this, that home really is, as the old adage says, where your heart is. I’ve found my home in hysterical laughter with colleagues who have become like family. In late night, after show pub crawls. In jet-lagged Skype conversations with my sweet nieces. In text messages from friends a world away. In feeling the orchestra through the floorboards of the concert stage and in the downbeat and fluttering nerves of every show. I’ve found my home in challenging rehearsals and in the delights of learning new music.

I may be “conventionally” homeless, but I feel that I have so very many homes. I’m a citizen of the world. Of the music. And I’m so thankful and blessed to be.

— Miss M

]]>