>When I clumped into rehearsal last night I said to Composer Doug, “Wow, this was a long week!”
He said, “Wicki, it’s Monday.”
“I mean today, today was a long week.”
I said it as if it were a perfect clarification for the way the day had gone.
Interviews at the crack of dawn, followed by a fun photo shoot, with both photographer and subject astride our steeds zooming on the cobblestones.
Followed by surliness at home, quick on the heels of the Times calling to do a story,
a run to radio station WBAI where posted on the wall are George Carlin’s immortal seven words you can’t say on radio. They seem so mild, now compared to what is on radio, television and coming out of my mouth regularly. You can hear the interview right here:
I had a benefit meeting; endless emails from lost cast members, questions, coffee, iced tea and caffeine in as many forms as they will deliver it to you. And when I arrived at rehearsal it seemed like a welcome sea of calm. There was Dominique, the gorgeous 19 year-old volunteer stage manager and prop person, who I thought had taken a powder and retreated into the land of SOHO retail, but there she was radiant, and with a notebook and ideas, ready to work.
I can’t say that enough as it astounds and heartens me. This bevy of volunteers coming in to save “The Little Opera That Could,” as one of the choristers’ mom dubbed us.
Then Edisa floats in. NO she really floats; she is ten feet tall, also amazingly beautiful and with a spirit virtually imbuing her with a beatific halo. I love her energy and vision, it provides a clarity and a boost to my seat-of-the-pants approach to, I wanted to say this piece, but the truth is more like my entire life. I feel as if this work, this opera is all about opening all of us up to deep collaborations.
Often it seems as if we are without a boss, a head, a director, but in the end we all unite and I hope will ascend.