I have been completely negligent on keeping up with my blog postings of late – I’m afraid the massive volume of music I’ve been facing has taken priority! But I was asked to write a guest blog for the Grammy Website, reflecting on my win for Best Classical Vocal Solo, and was more than happy to jot down a few thoughts on the magical experience, which I gleefully share with you here, as well:

"Non più mesta"

Although great and emotional moments abounded during my first-ever trip to the GRAMMYs, making it a weekend I will never forget, there was one moment that towered above all the others.

The invitation to perform at the Pre-Telecast Ceremony came as a complete shock because “opera” often seems to be viewed as a somewhat dirty word outside of our world of corsets and cadenzas, and our performances are not often granted the coveted spotlight in mainstream events. (Perhaps because they’re afraid we’ll be sporting our Viking helmets?) Through rocking nerves (and without a helmet) I proudly took to the stage with my pianist and performed “Non Più Mesta” from Gioachino Rossini’s La Cenerentola. The spontaneous standing ovation that greeted us after the final high note took me completely by surprise, taking away any breath I had left from the performance, and yet this wasn’t the moment.

As they announced the winner for Best Classical Vocal Solo, time seemed to stand still, yet it simultaneously seemed to burst into slow motion as I took the stage to accept my first GRAMMY. I remember forgetting to mention my amazing husband (may I please have a do-over?), but I did manage to articulate a few words about a passion of mine: arts education and the immense challenge facing music and arts teachers across the country.

Best Classical Vocal Solo

Feeling the powerful connection in the Los Angeles Convention Center rally around that sentiment was one of the most encouraging things I have ever witnessed, and something I hope we can all continue to address. But strangely enough, this wasn’t the moment, either.

Walking the red carpet, interviews, memories of Whitney Houston, rousing performances by the top of the pop world were all remarkable moments as well, but none of them were “it.”

My moment towered at about 5 feet 3 inches in the form of a young girl, no more than 15 years old, who ran up to me, shaking with excitement. My first thought was, “Does she think I’m Adele?!?” But no, she sought me out to say the following:

“Excuse me, I just have to say you were amazing. I don’t know what kind of music it was that you did, but where can I find more of it?”

She got it, and I hope she gets it for a lifetime.

That was my moment, and it is a golden and beautiful as my new shiny GRAMMY!

“Che l’immensa mia contento” warbles Elena at the end of a long night of bel canto emotional turbulence and vocal feasting as she begs the silenzio to speak for her, hoping its unpolluted simplicity will transport more profound emotion than any feeble words she might possibly voice on her own.  (Of course, “silence” in opera redefines the term “oxymoron”, but we’ll forgive her that ~ she’s been waiting 3 hours for that final aria!) Aptly enough, in the silence of my final walk home after the last of my 14 shows (comprised of two very different roles) at La Scala, I understood a bit more clearly the depth and power of stillness to mysteriously convey those overwhelming emotions that coursed through me ~ emotions of exhaustion, triumph, relief, joy, melancholy, satisfaction, dissatisfaction, connection and absolute, pure gratitude. Read more …

Tonight is the opening of Massenet’s Cendrillon here at the Royal Opera House. It will be the first time this opera has ever appeared on this distinguished stage, which is quite a moment in operatic history, and to say I’m exuberant is an understatement, for this is a role, amidst a most favorite production, that I simply adore.

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Well, that was stimulating! I must say, my last blog post certainly got me thinking, and it would appear that it stirred up a few things in you wonderful readers, as well ~ sadly confirming that the issue of slashing funding to the arts resounds across the universe in deafening fashion, it’s simply that Kansas is leading the way. Not the kind of leadership I can stand behind, I’m afraid.

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I am no stranger to strong emotions. I suppose having the exposed outlet of a gigantic stage with blaring lights and a wailing orchestra every so often temporarily soothes my savage beast. “It’s the best form of therapy”, you’ll hear numerous singers declare. Great truth lies in that statement. But every so often, I lack the appropriate outlet for my heated emotions that could easily be considered (shudder) “controversial”. We’re taught to avoid such hullabaloo, and generally I obediently abide.

But then this happened:
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