If Corona virus was a person, I would write a letter or call to talk, to ask. I would have so many questions: why are you doing this to us? What is the point? Why now? Where did you come from? Why like this? Are you here for a reason? What am I learning from this experience? How do I survive this? Will I survive this?
I guess these questions come naturally out of the state of isolation. The place where we are all faced with ourselves, where we are forced to look deeply within, we are really becoming aware of our fears, our strengths and weaknesses. This is the place that we discover what are we made of.
Recently, I have been looking into who I am, why I am here in this world and what my purpose is – but it is in this lockdown that these searches had become more acute and more urgent.
I feel grateful for this time, for learning to treasure every minute, all human connections, rediscovering buried connections with nature; creativity; art; music. Finding new ways of communication, new ways of teaching, finding more capacity in me for giving, letting go more, stressing less, just being, re evaluating my parenting, my life and my relationship with my singing. I am grateful for these revelations.
Like all things in life however, there are two sides to this coin – I feel a deep sadness and grievance for so many lost lives and people’s pain. I feel extremely sympathetic and compassionate for everyone who have lost their loved ones and who weren’t able to say goodbye. I feel afraid for those who are stuck in abusive relationships and people who suffer from depression or other mental illnesses. I am also worried about elderly people who are alone and for all the people who need urgent medical care for illnesses not related to corona virus. I feel that this isolation has also a very mean, cruel face. I worry that people are not processing what they feel now and bottling their feelings up, which in turn might bring to a delayed explosion of PTSD. I pray that the world will have enough therapists and mental health workers.
I feel that we are all changing and we will not be the same when we come out of this. Nonetheless, I pray and hope that we will come out of this better, stronger , braver and more prepared for the next world crisis. We are all equal before death, before illnesses – I pray that this will help us appreciate life more.
Meanwhile let’s just breathe through it…
Every few months I look through the photographs I have taken and it fills me with enormous gratitude. I am always surprised at how many things I manage to do, how many lovely people I meet and work with and how beautiful are the places I visit.
I have a portfolio career and a rich multi dimensional personal life. Portfolio career is a term used in corporate world and is very appropriate to describe what I do. I perform on concert stages around the world as a soloist, within my performance I am equally good in Opera, in song recitals and as a soprano soloist with an orchestra. I have recently added a cabaret show, which is on tour performing successfully in UK and abroad. In addition I teach piano and singing and my pupils have busy schedules performing their own concerts and exams. The recent addition to my portfolio is leading workshops for women and men, to empower their inner voices, harnessing the operatic voice.
It takes a village to raise a child and I feel blessed to have a circle of amazing friends who support my single parenting of my son and care of my two dogs. Having them in my life puts everything in perspective and slows down live into precious moments.
I feel that I am growing with each year, my heart expands, my mind relaxes. I learn to be more patient, I listen more to my inner voice. I am accepting myself and things aroung for what they really are. I have more courage in my steps and more surrender in my soul. I like this journey!
St. Peterburg, concert at the Philarmonic Hall with Maestro Alexander Dmitriev
Catalytic converter stolen from underneath my Toyota
Coventry Cathedral, sitting with the basses during the rehearsal for the war Requiem
About to jump with the zip wire 350 meter long above the lake in Sherwood forest
Tenerif and the Cabaret show
Skiing in Finland
Finland, Schostakovich and the great Alexander Melnikov
A day in Prague
Schostakovich/Vishnevskaya/Oistrach/Weinberg – the history in making
A Day in Gohrisch, with Linus,Florian and Emile Cabaret show is on the road
Ready to go on stage
Coventry Cathedral, War Requiem
Trasimeno Music Festival With the great Angela Hewitt
Concert in Leicester
After a foot operation, 4 weeks away from my son’s Bar-mitzvah and the dancing
My dear teacher and operatic inspiration RIP the greatest Montserrat Caballe
Skype with little Pistachio
Bar Mitzvah boy and the mother/son dance (smooth criminal all the way)
I am a great anticipator. I get excited when I expect something to happened. That includes preparation for a concert, from learning the music to getting dressed for a performance. From meeting the orchestra to seeing how our collaboration is unfolding. Perhaps the expectation of what is about to happen is equally powerful to the experience of the performance. Every detail is important, following all my little rituals before, during and after, everything that gets my full attention, is what makes my experience of singing enjoyable and wholesome.
Many times I am learning a new programme to just perform it once. After I have sang it, I am already preparing for the next. A very recent example. I have just sang 2 concert in the beautiful Dubal Opera house, followed by 2 concerts with CBSO and was called to sing with Halle Orchestra. Then got the music for a concert with BBC Concert Orchestra and few days later was performing life on the radio (BBC R3), in honour of the International woman’s day. The programme was featuring female composers. Gorgeous music, two different styles in one concert.
While I anticipate new concerts/programmes/performances I keep thinking about what I have sang. The music continues in my heart, head and voice until it finds a place of contentment, because I realise how it has changed me.