You wake up, and after your coffee, still in your nightgown, you start to ease in your work routine.

Oh, what an idyllic image.

Well, flash news. It does not work like that.

I sit at my piano, start to warm up my voice, yes, in my nightgown and there it is.

Distraction, distraction, that is the name of this game.

Oh my God, those books need to be put away. Those toys need to be put away.

Lia, why do you feel the need to leave Paw Patrol stuff all over my studio?

And why on earth do I have this OCD moment, in the middle of my warming up?

Ok, then I will start all over again and think scripts, blogs, projects.

Uhm…the sofa is comfy, next thing you know, I am chatting away with my sofa buddy on the internet.

Back to the piano, the seat is hard enough to focus, if it was not for that beeping noise meaning:

“Girl, could you please, please unload the washing machine?”

As you can see…a disaster  

Working from home is not a solution for me.

It is so important, as an artist, a creative person, to find a space in which you can be in your zone.

You can be in the moment, and have the flow of ideas come to you.

Not to mention, in the specific, a place where you can sing high B`s without hearing the dog of the neighbour going berserk on you.

So important to declutter, to clean up your inner church, to be in your work clothes, literally and emotionally. To unload a flowing stream of music, instead a flowing stream of chores, thoughts, worries and actions that come  with being a mother, a member of a family, the mistress of the castle.

Luckily when you call the universe, the universe responds.

Meet Haparandaweg 788a

A place sent from heaven, where magically things happen, ideas happen, the voice is free to wander as much as she wants.

A wall full of trees, windows full of light, as much as you can in the dutch winter.

An enourmous 67 number in front of you, in case you were wondering: “Where is this place again?” J

Just what you need to concentrate

And boy, concentration it is. I get more work done in an afternoon that in a whole week.

I enjoy the de-cluttering, the tidiness, the silence.

The afternoon that becomes evening, the enormous 67 towering in front of me in the dark.

The green solitude, the adjustable chairs. Feels like home, yet it is a working space.

Wonderfully enough, it retains all the positive features of a home, without the slackening of it.

I am happy, enthusiastic, I found my place.

Next step: hosting a concert there.

A try-out TAKE 2  of my show    “My favourite things” .

The first try-out of this new #theatermusica project went really well. Reactions poured in.

” Full of passion, this diva – and diva she is  indeed!- carried the public away with her performance full of temperament…

Everything she sings, she puts her heart and soul in it…”

Some mailed asking: “When is the next one? When can we see it again? Can we book already?”

In my mind a ping-pong game :  doing it again- perfect location- doing it again- small&intimate- doing it again -cosy&inviting.

DOING IT AGAIN. HAPARANDAWEG 788. WHY NOT?

It is the perfect setting for an intimate, cosy, warm afternoon with my favourite things, songs, memories, funny stuff that happened in all of these years of being on stage.

Working girl in a working place. And the working place becomes your home .

Now, THAT’S a fairytale.

See you there! (handful of seats still free…didn’t we say we wanted to keep it small?)

https://www.facebook.com/events/327080497674668/

Room was full, piano was great, @Manuel you rock big time, voice in top form .

I went for it.

“Vol overgave en passie wist deze diva -jazeker, dat is ze!- het publiek in vervoering te brengen met haar temperamentvolle performance”

 “Wat ze ook zingt, ze legt haar hart en ziel erin -of het nu gaat om een aria van Bizet of Verdi, een nummer van Gershwin of een volksliedje uit Azerbeidzjan”

” It was a fabulous recital! Loved it, tears to my eyes, also laughter and a lot of admiration for your voice! Feelings all over the place! “

” Wonderful evening ,superb recital, and stories that made us laugh and cry!! thank you Carla and Manu”.

” 1000 emotions and goosepumps!”

 Well, it looks like they all loved it.

Today I am reflecting on how different is the perception of a performance from THIS side of the wall, the performer’s side, that is.

So, here it comes.

I come in, and I start to sing.

Did you want opera singer? Well, that’s what you are getting to begin with.

Let’s play it safe.

It does not get more “opera singer”dan Carmen, and as expected, public settles in for more opera, the faces and the expressions are saying : “Yes, I know this” .

My first speaking line, first ever from a dutch script, goes very “newsreading” style.

UHM.

Well, I am human, I am not a robot, and if the room is warming up to me, I also need to warm up to them. So, 2 lines are enough for the moment, let’s reassure them with more opera.

“Lascia ch’ io pianga” is the perfect choice, if you heard it in a concert, on tv, on an icecream publicity….sounds familiar enough

An arabic friend in the first row stares at the floor, and then looks at me again with watery eyes.

Yes, when music is beautiful, is universally beautiful. Haendel, good job and Carla good job as well.

The question is : “What do I sing in the shower?”

At this point we start shaking up things a little bit, and jazz is the right twist.

I sing the standards sitting, with my eyes closed. Weirdly enough I AM in my zone. Manu is totally backing me up, and I trust him to lead.

I wake up to an audience that starts to realize that no, this is not going to be just an opera concert, and yes, there is a story to be told.

Yes, the story.

Focus, Carla , Focus.

They need to be drawn into your story, in the same way they are drawn to your music.

Words come out more easily now, as I go on with memories, stories, fun stuff.

The “nostalgia” segment comes up. Homesick, belonging, loneliness, all themes very dear to me.

And to most of my audience, because when “Caruso” starts, I see, to my dismay, the third row in tears. And not only one tear. No. red-face kind of tears.

Oh Jeez. Is that bad? Or good? What if they leave thinking : “This is soooo depressing, not coming here anymore”?

No time to waste speculating. It is the time for cheering spirits up, and an old tarantella does it for all of us. My dialect flows in my throat like red wine.

From this side, audience looks like they recovered: red eyes are still there, but now everybody is smiling.

Tarantella is indeed like a good glass of wine, it makes you feel warm inside.

We thought we were out of the woods, but now comes MY difficult part.

I chose to talk about  “In Viaggio” about those incredible 9 months of life and death.

I thought  it was going to be risky, tricky, and to be honest  “Icameheretolistentocarmennottocryoveryourdeadmother ”

Still, I chose to go for it. Ok, then let’s go, let’s do it…

I choke a couple of times on the text. Yes, I do. Damn.

I choke looking at my friend in row number 4,  knowing she knows what I feel.

Knowing she was there when this happened.

No turning back. I close my eyes and I start “Notturno”.

Welcome to my life, people. Sing, laugh, cry, and pull through.

I sing it without a single slip and I open my eyes. OHHHHHHH

The audience is on THIS side of the wall. They are on my side now, they are in my world, they laugh, they cry and pull through.

And sing as well.

REALLY?

Oh yes. Amsterdamse grachten is a hit, and even if this is only the first part of the show, I get enough requests of enchores to convince me that they are going to enjoy the second part as well.

And so it is.

The second part goes impeccably with me improvising on the script, God knows I miss one of two grammatical rules, but hey, that’s show business baby, and  the audience  is warmed up, cosy, inviting, totally lifting me up to the end.

It is a rollercoaster of stories, pieces, emotions, waves come in and out, flushes of tears and laughter as well.

I am, we all are, in an endless musical menopause, hot flashes included,ahaha.

Here I encounter 2 big surprises #performerperceptionVSaudienceperception

-One very dramatic Verdi`s Aria , which almost did not make the cut, as I thought it could be a bit too bombastic for this theatermusica concert, gets the biggest applause of the evening (completed with “Zooo…” , dutch equivalent of “Whoaaa”).

-One small spanish lullaby, which almost did not make the cut, as I thought it could be a bit too quiet for this theatermusica concert, gets the longest applause of the evening.

I am totally in my element, and audience as well.

The concert ends with HABANERA , and that’s a standing ovation.

Wait people, there is one singalong more and THEN is finished. Please, allow me, let me sing.

Uhm….I thought this was the perfect ending, Maybe not, audience does not agree, I can tell.

Things to think through when perfecting this show, next time.

Now is the time of standing ovation, tears, joy, and love, so much love from everybody.

So much love.

In the previous blog I wrote: “I will be naked. I hope someone will clothe me”

Looks like they did. Feeling FULLY clothed right now.

So much that we are going to have another try-out…are you coming?

https://www.facebook.com/events/327080497674668/

https://www.facebook.com/CarlaReginaVoiceActually/

It is called “My favourite things” and it is about …my favourite things. Singing things, that is.

Opera, jazz, dutch songs, everything together, with a bit of an informal talk in between.

The venue is beautiful and cosy,and not too big. I chose it for the try-out because of that, I wanted to keep it intimate, cosy, and “control damage” proof.

The public as well comes from a selected list, some of them are regulars to my concerts, friends, people of the business I trust. I chose them to keep it intimate, informal, and “control damage” proof.

Not that I ever think about the “control damage” proof part. Right.

Who am I kidding?

Going on stage and perform this theatre concert, freaks the hell out of me.

First time in dutch, first time more than a conversation than a proper script, first time acting being me, and not someone else in a role.

Lots of thoughts go through my mind , when reharsing over and over the repertoire.

The repertoire, right.

Will people enjoy it? Will the opera crowd be able to go through and enjoy some other kind of music? Or is it just too much opera, anyway?

Would they be able to sit and go through intellectual stuff, ordinary stuff, elite music, popular music, all in one afternoon?

Uhm…

The language.

Will I be able to be fluent, fun, charming, moving  in dutch?

Or would it have been better to try my luck and do it in English?

This is Amsterdam, for God’s sake, if there is a place in the whole universe where everybody speaks and understands English as second language, that`s here!.

Uhm…

Passed the stage of being understood (I swear, the first one that tells me that I speak like Maxima, or like the pathetic old Italian woman making pizza on tv for her son who obviously is sitting already at the table….), doubts are all over the content as well.

Will people like what I say? Would they be interested in the mix of stories, memories, information, explanations, funny stuff, moving stuff, that populates this theatre concert?

After all, who cares about what I love, what moves me, what makes me sing.

Who cares about the fan from Baku, and my youtube video.

Who cares about the fact that it took me a solid month to go through Notturno without crying, it is not like I never sang the f…g piece , but that was before 2010, now we are in 2016 and as I know, and the public will know as well, après 2010 le diluge, things are different… who cares about that?

Will they connect , will I connect to them, or will they be sitting and listening politely, staring at my dress, my hair, looking at the watch and thinking:  “I need a drink!”?

All this goes through my mind while days are passing by, and THE day is approaching so fast!

ENOUGH , I say to myself.

Many years ago, I made the choice to always be faithful to who I was.

I chose to sing, to perform not only in the shower, but in front of an audience.

I made a choice to be “naked” in front of a public.

One could argue I did it because I have a bona fide narcissist and egocentric personality. No, I did it because I wanted to connect with people, and singing was the best way I could do that.

Then I chose to go deeper. I chose not only to perform a role, but to being even more “naked”, I chose to write stories and perform them. I chose #theatermusica

Stories which were a bit uncomfortable sometimes, stories that left me emotionally exhausted.

But it paid off, I felt like being naked was indeed a privilege (and I still feel like that).

People would come to me and would say that I made them cry, I made them shiver, I made them think.

And the more I went on, the more I realize that that WAS my truth, that being naked, exposing my soul in an attempt to touch other souls, was ALL I knew how to do, and ALL I wanted to do.

It is still my truth, and it gets more and more naked, as I go on.

This is me, I have to be true to who I am, I need to accept it, I need to allow myself to be who I am.

And the rest will follow.

Someone will clothe my nakedness. With laughter, with tears. With a song.

Hopefully… with an applause.

https://www.facebook.com/events/315477945491368/

Good. So the idea is there, the date is there. What now?

Cue typical thinking of average Joe on this regard:

A couple of months of tv watching, shopping sprees and cosy lunches with friends. Some hours before the show, hair and makeup done, while zipping champagne in a bathrobe. A fabulous dress on and… it is done.

Ready to go on stage. After all, singing is a part of the human expression. We all hum some tunes every now and then. It’s that easy. Really.

NOT. GOD, NO.

The journey starts putting down 50 songs names that magically have to become 20 in a week.

The names sum up a schizofrenic encyclopedia of all you could sing in a concert: 500 years of vocal music condensed in 3 A4.

You feel like Russel Crowe in “A beautiful mind”: letters are bouncing back and forth, popping out from the paper, screaming : Me! Pick me!

Some letters start to pop up a bit more, some names in a threedimensional effect design in fluo charachters in front of your eyes what the ideal program should be.

After a week of unlocking codes and allucinating on them, who needs LSD when you have a program to put together, 25 names make the cut.

And then you let it rest, like the yeast in the dough.

You take a break, because in the meanwhile you also have a life to live, a child to feed, other programs to nurture.

After 2 days the 25 names need to become 20, needless to say that bit of Asperger in you is coming up at lightspeed, nasty like an hangover, all HAS to be simmetric.

A simmetric balance of happy songs, sad songs. A equal quota of opera songs, jazz-blues songs, folk songs. God forbid the program is not in balance.

I used to do it with pieces of papers on the floor, moving them around like domino tiles. Oh, not anymore. God bless Copy and paste, Cut and paste, and above all CTR Z.

Here comes another week of pro and cons, of putting in and taking away. You look at every possible angle, all possibilities. 4 of this, 4 of that. Block of this, block of that. Happy here, sad there. Major keys, minor keys. Germans to the left, spanish to the right.

There, finally it is picture perfect, like a painting of Rembrandt.

Let’s put it to the throat test. No, it is not a porn show

Your voice has to absorbe the program, has to assimilate and digest the order of the pieces in order to stay fresh and alert from beginning til the end. You need to sing it and sing til you know exactly the easy bumps, the difficult bumps, and you can navigate through them with easyness. Kind of the same work you would do in a marathon. You save energy and then you go full speed towards the finale.

Full of confidence you start that process thinking, well, now is just a matter of training.

(Fail button) . Wrooong

The perfect list starts to present some cracks, your only solution is to start again moving around stuff, like in an Ikea showroom gone wild. Extreme times require also extreme measures : you might need to kill a piece of 2. Like, Now. Time is of essence.

We are 2 weeks away from concert date, and things are looking grey.

And then…suddenly, the back and forth, the letting it rest, the redjusting, the going for a walk when the code cracking seems unbearable, finally stops. One day, you are rehearsing with the compassionate soul following the nutcase you have become, and everything FINALLY make sense.

Ok. Exale. We can make music now. 

We can give to the public what they want. An effortless, just-out-of-bed relaxed performance which will make them wonder why are they even reading this article about craziness. `Til it’s over and then….(like the song says):

“Shh shh
It’s nice and quiet 
Shh shh
But soon again
Shh shh
Starts another big riot”

Let’ s try to survive this one, first. Come and listen and tell me what you think. The try out is called :