General rehearsal: Lights, action, panic!

Today's the day.

But yesterday was also interesting, since we had our general rehearsal in Camerata. Our visual designer, Eero Erkamo, was creating magic with the lights - it takes forever and is seriously hard work. We got to experience it now for the first time.

So everyone came and got dressed, instruments were tuned, makeup was added and the run-through could begin. Of course it was quite awful: everyone was nervous, the lights were new and unexpected, and things were not finding their places. The acoustics of Camerata had to be reconsidered and playing and the singers' diction had to be adjusted to our new surroundings. I had to come to terms with playing on a piano sans lid (surprisingly different, that). The lights were sometimes on time, sometimes not. Someone of the band would be off at any given time - and quite often it would be me. 'Twas chaos.

But we did it, and after doing it we talked, went through ideas and improvements, ate, and took a deep breath. We could do this. And then we went through it for a second time and things just fell into place. Tempi were stable and comfortable, singers did amazing things, lights were there, and players played their hearts out creating a really impressive soundscape. Itzam waved his arms and Aura turned pages and Eljas gave last-minute instructions and our two paparazzis captured it all and we got it, it worked, we were all super exhausted and happy.

Relieved, we packed our bags and went to sleep. I, for one, slept like a baby, knowing that the performance is in good hands. All these skillful people doing their utmost to create this spectacle - what's not to love?

Here's some material from our paparazzi Gustav Larsson:

Itzam armwaving.

Anna-Maija as the acquaintance.

Milla as the person.

Final Countdown: Nightmares and vampires

Only a few days left to practice and a few nights not to sleep. What are your nightmares like before a big performance? I've had the classics: desperately searching for the stage door, but never finding it - having forgotten the music - not wearing the right clothes - and then some weirder ones, like having the hall filled with spiders and other unpleasant things. So that's the nights.

Latest in fashion: winter wear

The days have been more pleasant: we've been really working hard this week. Last week we had a break, since our soprano wanted to change her last name. So don't be surprised to read Anna-Maija Oka in the program notes; no-one was kicked out or replaced. Having returned to business on Monday we started to gather troops for the final battle. I have managed to buy fake blood, and Itzam has managed to get his arm seriously sore from waving it around in front of hardworking musicians. Milla has been down with a vicious flu, but thanks to the Benevolent Gods of Voice, she starts to be back in fighting form. And Anna-Maija sings just as beautifully with a shorter last name, too.

Today we took over Camerata for the first time, and went through all the motions and the running around. We won't have the actual lights until Monday, but today was anyway more about getting a feel of the hall and testing distances and suchlike. What you always should remember in staging things is that if you're not super-rich, you probably will have to practice in a place different to the one where you perform. That takes planning, caution and luck - for example, the Camerata stage was a bit narrower than we thought, so some things had to be reorganized. There's also one insanely heavy door, and some things had to be changed because that door takes way longer to open than we would've guessed. So remember: do your homework and leave room for surprises if you attempt something similar!

We asked for a sun and this is what Eero came up with..

Tomorrow the band will practice with the performance clothes for the first time, and it will be exciting to see what kind of a vampire army we will make. (Seriously, we're not going to be a vampire army, but it's a persistent joke. We don't really know what we are. You'll have to use your imagination.) Eljas will be making final tweaks and directional touches, and on Monday Eero will work his magic with all the lights in action. There is no way this opera could be anything but spectacularly awesome.

Final countdown: Joining a band

Sometimes a person needs some arrows to survive.

A bit over two weeks left, and the band met for the first time to make art. If you've seen any posters or other advertisement, you probably know we're called Korwamato-ensemble. This group consists of

Johanna Kärkkäinen, flute; Kristjan Parts, clarinet; Natalia Vaskinova, violin; Iiris Tötterström, cello; and myself behind a piano. Itzam is conducting, since he's the one who made the stuff we're supposed to play.

So we met and we rehearsed, twice. For me it was a surprisingly big change to become a part of the band. Having been rehearsing with the sopranos alone for quite some time, suddenly I had to stop being the leader of the situation and start following Itzam's orders. I realized halfway through the first rehearsal that I'm sometimes just blatantly ignoring whatever Itzam's doing and taking my own tempi (a bit embarrassing, that). I also realized that I felt really defensive about my previous role as the person in charge - perhaps I was enjoying it more than I was willing to admit to anyone. However, as the rehearsal continued life got easier, and the second rehearsal was free from any personal crisis.

Here's a quick clarification about the life of a pianist:

Usually, when doing a full-scale opera, the pianist is the one rehearsing with singers, and then the band and conductor take over and finish the job. Our case is different because I'm also part of the band - and that's where my role changes.

Now enough about me. Rehearsals were first a complete chaos, as they always are. Luckily the musicians we've got are complete pros, and the second rehearsal was much more of a success. Jääkausi is not an easy piece for the players, let's get that straight. It's got microtones (Microtones are notes that exist between the notes you can play on the piano - they sound wrong but that's how they're supposed to sound. It's art.) - it's got complex rhythms (That's when people are playing really different things and it sounds messy but the mess is actually calculated to sound exactly like that.) - it's got fast things that change to other fast things. The other instruments have plenty of flashy and weird techniques to use, too, and sometimes we really sound like the army of the dead; which is what the director pretty much wants us to look like, too.

Today is yet another rehearsal, after which we will have a creative break for the rest of the week. That's due to a certain private event that needs some peace around itself. And then comes next week and that's the last and most intense one. Stay tuned.

Final countdown: Three weeks left, and where's the fake blood?

Three weeks to the premiere looks like this:

Eljas and Milla finding meaningful things from the score.

Jenna pointing out meaningful things from the score.

So we've got the date, we've got the posters and we've got some publicity. 

(If you don't have anything too important to do tomorrow at around 14.25, tune your radio to Yle Radio 1 - or your computer to Yle Areena. We're performing an unforgettably shamanistic duet from Jääkausi.)

But what's really going on? - I thought I'd tell you.

I'm little by little hunting down things we will need in our performance, like red heels, fake blood and white overalls. I'm also finding out things about the things we will need in our performance, like how washable is fake blood really? (Answer: some brands are easily removed, some not quite so) and how noisy are the overalls in Motonet? In the meantime Eero, our visual designer, is coming up with solutions like how to have a sun in a bowl, or how to create the eternal spiral of time. Itzam is going through the score and learning how to conduct it, and the singers are trying to remember everything by heart.

In the rehearsals we're going through a mixed phase, which is beautifully reflected in the multiple schedules I've sent to people, depending on what they need to know. There are the rehearsals with only the band dealing with stuff; rehearsals with band and singers, tying to make music; then there are the rehearsals where only I'm playing and Eljas is making his staging art with the sopranos; and finally the full rehearsals with everybody and everything happening at once.

The staging side of things is slowly forming into a coherent whole, and music, too, begins to diminish. Diminishing in this context - for me - is as follows: When you start to learn a new piece of music, it feels huge. Moving from one page to the next is a lot of stuff, and the end seems to be very far from the beginning. Getting more acquaintanced with the music it starts to feel more like a graspable thing - you begin to have a sense of its structure, the overarching shape, and it really feels like the piece is getting smaller. You're not looking at it like an infinite field of notes, but more like a detailed map you know how to navigate.

(Reading this again I have understood that explaining myself clearly is a skill I'll have to develop further. But hopefully you grasp my meaning, or half.)

So. Having this petite piece in our hands and turning into an acted thing where players are also doing stuff, lights are on and a conducter is whirling his hands around - that's what happens now.

Ps. Have you seen a poster yet? I've heard they look amazing.

1st Rehearsal: Singing pianists and press releases

The composer tries to look like a serious person.

Have you seen Sibelius Academy's Spring brochure yet? - didn't think so. So why don't you go and find one and see for yourself that our opera is there, picture and all! In case you had doubts about this project ever materializing, this should set your soul to peace. It is happening, and it's happening soon.

The other sign of a performance eventually taking place is the existence of a score. Itzam worked his ass off and last week the biggest and last scene of Jääkausi saw the light of day. Today our courageous team went through the entire thing! Scenes 1-4 were sung by Milla and Ammi and scene 5 was sung by me, since Milla had to leave a tad early. Itzam, Eljas and Juho heroically listened and tried to imagine what the scene would really sound like when done by people who can actually sing.

Lessons learned:

1) Playing from the full score isn't always a walk in the park. Sometimes you turn the page and really get lost trying to find your line. My reaction: play nonsense, swear and repeat the mistake on the next turn. The proper way: play nonsense, skip the swearing and look proud and professional.

2) A piano cannot be flute, clarinet, violin and cello if they play microtones. My reaction: play nonsense, swear and say it's impossible. The proper way: look at the composer knowingly and shake your head.

3) A pianist is not a soprano. Not in any way.

After this very instructive session there was some planning to do, so a select group of marketing professionals went to have lunch and discuss serious matters. Juho drafted a press release, and I tried to sketch a poster-to-be. You try to come up with clever things to say that don't sound like you're over-confident or downright delusional! Struggle we did, but some coffee and half-cooked spaghetti later we had a release and a poster plan ready. The next big step is to get the poster printed and spread it around; maybe in a week's time you'll already see it winking at you somewhere in town. And how exciting is that?

Happy Start-up Year!

This time I don't have a lot to say; like all wise and lucky people, I've been hibernating through Christmas. But now work begins. There's less than two months to our premiere in Musiikkitalo! Have you seen the advert yet? Check it from here and get yourself a ticket (or three):

 

Start-up Opera esittää: Jääkausi

Next week our rehearsals will start in earnest, and I will keep you informed of how they go. Now here are some pictures of how we brainstormed in luxurious conditions before Christmas...

"So here we'll see the sun inside the bowl"

"Try to look like you're reading really intensely"

So stay tuned, there's more coming soon...

About Us: Soprano Milla

How does it feel to be in front of a camera?

[When in front of a camera] I mentally go through all the unsuccesful pictures of me. So not good.

What interests you most in this process?

It's interesting to get to do something that's very now. Singers interested in baroque often do contemporary music as well. What those genres have in common is the lack of a definitive tradition. We can create the libretto and music and make whatever we want out of them.

Building a role, onstage work and singing are a challenging combination. You learn to do opera just by doing. I'm looking forward to improving in combining these things. I'm sure this will be one of the most instructive and memorable projects in my masters studies. Also it will be nice to do more of Itzam's music.

I've been so excited about my voice slowly starting to work like an instrument, and that my artistic persona now has a clearer profile. I don't think anymore that I, as a singer, should only sing as beautifully as possible or in the same way as some other singer has sung.

I've been also very glad about having got Anna-Maija on board. I've admired her unique singer persona for a long time already. What kind of stage chemistry will we have? Usually the musicians I work with inspire and teach me - it's not just about your own performance, it's the joint effort of the whole group. That's why our project is so special.

What would be your worst-case scenario?

A flu.

What do you think about your character, Ihminen ("human"), reading Juho's libretto? How does it feel to be soon stepping in Ihminen's shoes?

I've thought about the lack of gender. Earlier onstage I've done female roles with a very clear character, roles that you can describe with simple adjectives such as "bad" or "princess". Now I'd like to try to build a flesh-and-blood, realistic character. It won't be a fairytale one, this human.

For now I'm trying to stay open for the role, because there's plenty of room for different interpretations in the libretto itself. Ihminen in Juho's libretto is a tabula rasa. I'm going to wait and see, in which direction the music will take the character.

You've performed Itzam's songs before. Tell something about the experience, what was it like?

I can't get enough of Itzam's music! He's got such

innovative ideas, and the compositions themselves are so beautiful and multilayered. Humour and depth walk hand in hand, and the songs have sophisticated tone colours, graceful melodic lines and usually a perfectly genious rhythmic structure.

One of the most unforgettable musical experiences of my life was to perform Itzam's song cycle Ludi for soprano, renaissance flute and theorbo. In Ludi I got to sing in Spanish, English, Toki Pona and Nahuat, and to experiment with a variety of ways to use my voice. These days a singer sometimes has to embrace a very different vocal aesthetic than what we've used to in traditional classical singing. In Ludi I was especially impressed by how delicately Itzam was able to bring to the vocal line gestures typical for baroque.

What makes Itzam's music special is that it works for all kinds of audiences. Even though it's skilfully crafted and "art", it's still not difficult to approach or dusty. It's simply current music for today's people.

In the beginning it was difficult to say out loud whether some part of Itzam's first drafts was too hard to do. The music in itself felt from the start so perfect, that I didn't want to intrude and complain that something is too much of a challenge for the voice.

I want the words to be understood, however. It's more challenging to distinguish vowels from music that's written very high. [The singer sometimes can help the composer with this kind of things.] And the more you work with living composers, the more important good communication becomes. Also it's important that contemporary music is easily approachable for the singer, too. It's a waste to compose songs that only a singer with a perfect pitch or a vocal acrobat can perform. That's why co-operating with the composers is important.

..and what does Itzam think about it all? You'll hear soon..

About Us: Director Eljas

 

How does it feel to be in front of the camera?

I really don't enjoy being in front of it. As the rest of the time I spend struggling to be less awkwardly conscious of myself, the moments facing a camera are a significant hindrance.

What interests you the most in this process?

Once again I'm fascinated by facing the unknown - always out of my comfort zone. I still don't know much about the opera; neither do I know what attitude would be the right one to take. And that's exactly what I enjoy. Juho's libretto is a pleasure to read - and throws down a devil of a challenge. I enjoy that as well.

What's your worst-case scenario?

That the opera would be cancelled for some reason. Or then that secretly in my thoughts I'd end up making a compromise, surrendering to fear when facing a new thing. I don't believe that either of these would happen.

You've already directed one miniature opera. How does directing singers differ from directing actors? What kind of challenges does working with music create?

The directing doesn't differ at all. In both cases it's about directing people - people who perform, and the directors job is to see each personality and the potential within in relation to his own abilities. Music, on the other hand, makes a bigger difference: the text alone doesn't mean anything, as the music becomes the other half of a "stage-script". If there's a turn in the music, it cannot be ignored, even if the text claimed otherwise. Also, music in opera offers a setting already "detached" from reality. That is a great strenght.

What kind of experiences do you have about opera? Do they affect your directing? Why?

As a kid, I've watched and been impressed by many a spectacle at the National Opera - everything from Carmen to Lohengrin. Later on I've gained new perspectives from Lulu directed by Leea Kleemola and Punainen viiva ("the red line") by Pekka Milonoff. These have created the idea that this isn't really so different from theater. It doesn't have to be. A video recording I saw of a Stuttgart-based production of Philip Glass' Satyagraha was mind-blowing - realizing that one can do absolutely anything. I don't know if any of these affect my work. For me what's always most important is that the person onstage understands, what situation or what kind of a moment is going on, and that the person lives, reacts and breathes. That's it.

..more about the sopranos' breathing and other stage-related activities coming soon..

Seventh meeting: It's a date!

An iceberg.

Ladies and gentlemen! After two months of suspense, we're proud to tell you we've got a date. Take your calendars out, people.

1st of March will be the grand premiere of our opera, Jääkausi.

(That'd be "ice age" in English, but no, it's nothing like the movie.)

The seventh time this group met pretty much consisted of getting our heads around the fact that we have a date. Many details needed to be sorted out - what should be done about all the little details? Lights? Props? How's the marketing? What would the program notes be like and who would write them? When's the general rehearsal? Who will play?

After talking about all this and more we started slowly to turn our attention to some rather bigger details, such as the composition itself. Itzam has been working hard, and some of the scenes are already taking their musical shape. There is a lot to think about still - composing for singers has many peculiarities. Some words are difficult to be understood when sung really high, for example, and that has to be taken into account if we want anyone to know what's happening on stage. And the music has to be learned and performed to Eljas, so he can start thinking about staging it all.

Now that the Sibelius Academy has given us the performance, we have to advertise it, too. So our meeting ended with a photo shoot, and everyone had their picture taken by... me. We're embracing arte povera to the fullest, taking photos on a mobile phone camera and editing them ourselves. Well. Making certain boyfriends edit them, which is almost the same thing.

After everyone took their turn of smiling awkwardly to the camera, we went our separate ways heads full of things to be organized and thought about. The truly exciting times have just begun.

Fifth meeting and a soprano hunt

Some serious libretto reading going on.

It has been an eventful summer, full of things such as rain and other projects. Also I have found the need to reload my batteries and prepare for battle (aka. start of the school year). And so it happens that we had a meeting on the 18th of May and I'm writing about it now.

Everyone was there on our fifth meeting, again in Milla's place. For the first time we read through the entire libretto - lacking just some finishing touches. It was all very exciting. All in all the meeting circled around the following three points:

1) Scheduling. Our director announced that next spring he's going to escape to Lapland. So the opening night would have to be sooner than hoped for.

2) Scheduling. Can we actually make this happen? Will the composition be finished on time?

3) A writing crisis. Sometimes there's just too much text.

That day we went our separate ways with varying amounts of optimism and cheerfulness, and all was well. And then the university spat on us. Well, on Iida, in any case. She was accepted to Berlin to study singing, and had to resign from our opera group. We're pretending to be happy for her, because studying singing in Berlin must be completely amazing, fulfilling and every kind of wonderful, but still our hearts are bleeding for losing this eccentric, energetic artist. I tell you, this young lady will be heard of.

So.

That left us one soprano short, and a hunt began. I had long talks with Milla and Itzam about who could be best suited to our group, and who Itzam could most comfortably compose to on such a tight schedule. We all had different opinions and favourites, but one name was on all our lists: Anna-Maija Perttunen. She didn't say yes immediately, but wanted to think about joining us. (Which was wise - we're on a fool's errand trying to change the universe and open the hearts of these humans who have fallen from the grace of Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. We've got no money, just wild plans and a little time to create a mind-blowing spectacle of an opera.) Eventually Anna-Maija caved in and said yes, and we're going to live happily ever after.

Stay tuned. There are amazing things to come.

After a long silence, a musician rants

Being a musician is hardly a 9 to 5 job. Practicing, gigs, studies, pr, teaching - usually a musicians life is a creative cocktail of things to be scheduled. Sometimes, when I'm writing yet another list of things to do or practicing on yet another Sunday, I really wish I had chosen the other option: work and free time separated, and someone giving me clear instructions on what to do and when. Not to mention a regular income.

How is this related to our opera, you might ask. Well, it isn't. And still it's the reason why I haven't written for so long. Writing this blog has been on my to-do list for two months, but life got in the way. Life and poor time management.

So I find myself thinking about this eternal problem of the quality of a musicians free time. I miss free time without guilt. You know this, but I'll spell it out anyway: it's the feeling ​you get when you're watching TV or meeting friends or having any kind of a good time, really, and at the same time you're haunted​ by all the repertoire you're not practicing, all the emails you haven't sent - an endless list of unscheduled stuff. And who's doing the dishes, I'd love to know!

 

For me personally it can at times be hard to let the undone things remain​ undone. I find myself lying awake at night stressing about everything that I should do instead of snoring peacefully. I really don't think I'm alone in this​, either​ - and that's why you're reading this rant.​ I'd like to know how do you do it? How do you make your life work, what's your secret? I myself stay sane mainly thanks to lists and an incredibly patient driver/cook/boyfriend, who picks up the pieces when i run out of steam.

But please, tell us your tricks. And I'll add "update blog more often" to my next to-do list.​

Meet the Group: Juho

Juho is a 30-year-old dramaturge and playwright based in Helsinki. Originally from Vantaa, his childhood dream professions included being the president, an ice-hockey player, a clown and a writer.

In addition to this opera, Juho is currently part of the Finnish National Theater's project 'Routes to Kontula'. It consists of various performances, workshops and other art activities with the inhabitants of Kontula, a district in Helsinki. Read more from reittejakontulaan.blogspot.com.

- What's good and what's not-so-good about being a playwright?

In my profession I am officially allowed to be playful. My job includes both working alone and with other people, which is perfect for me. The biggest downsides are probably insecurity, unpredictability, competition, envy, and having to prove oneself all the time.. Also, the work is very personal - its up- and downhills can affect my state of mind very much, sometimes too much.

- What other interests or hobbies do you have?

Animals (especially cats),walking outdoors, music, movies and other arts. The world and society. Nature.

- Tell us something about yourself that others don't necessarily know!

Before getting into the Theater Academy, I have worked, among other things, as a classroom assistant, lawnmower, and as a publishing editor. 

If you want to know more about Juho (and/or his cat), write to us!

Meet the Group: Eljas

Eljas Liinamaa is a 32-year-old theater director from Helsinki, but as a child he wanted to be a daydreamer - or as we say in Finland, "a painter of the sky". Eljas points out that his wish did indeed come true. Currently he's preparing a production for Jyväskylän kaupunginteatteri. The premier is in Autumn. Eljas is also making plans for new projects and grant applications.

- What's good and what's not-so-good about being a director? 

The "work" penetrates your entire life and is purely temporary, occasional and fleeting. Whether this is a happy or a bad thing depends on the day. Mostly happy.

- What other interests or hobbies do you have? 

Hiking, band, choir, singing and piano.

- Tell us something about yourself that others don't necessarily know! 

I am my mother's 7½th cousin, and thus my own 7¾th cousin. Long live genealogy. 

If you want to know more about Eljas, well, ask us.