Forty By Forty

Number 9: Take an Opera Lesson

 

Little Cahn Artists

I've always loved to sing. My brother Ulrik and I have been singing together and harmonizing our whole lives, first randomly around the house and later with the synagogue choir. It was the best way to be Jewish, we had to go to temple anyways, but this way we didn't have to sit with our parents. And we actually got paid. Also, because we're both so good at recognizing songs after just hearing the first few beats, we still play "Name that Tune" whenever there's music on. And it's highly competitive.  

 I suppose my love for opera was ignited in my teens. I was in a musical theatre group in Sweden when I was 14 or 15 called Miniteatern. Yes, that means "mini theatre" as in for mini people. Not short people, but young people. We were doing a show that was a compilation of different operas and I was chosen for the solo song "Mein Herr Marquis" from the Opera "Die Fladermaus" by Johann Strauss. I really really loved it and still sing it around the house in its original language. As much as I have ill feelings towards Germans... because of the Holocaust and such...they know how to write a good opera. I saw The Magic Flute in the Luxembourg Gardens in Paris a couple of years ago and it was incredible. And I'm still hoping to get to See Carmen at the Met which is actually playing two weeks before my birthday.

So this was something I added to the list. I wanted to get back in touch with my opera voice and my love for singing, beyond Beatles Rockband, and asked around for suggestions. 

 

"Calvin Remsberg is a larger than life type character," said Luke, the person who referred me to my new voice teacher. Luke is not just a talented actor but an accomplished bicyclist, a lumberjack-shirt-wearing Canadian and an incredible singer. He referred me to two teachers but Calvin really stood out as someone who would be a great addition to the Forty By Forty project when Luke described him.

My first lesson was...larger than life. It started out with some vocal exercises so that Calvin could get a sense of my range. Momomomoms and nununununununs and lalalalalalalalas. And then I sang some songs. "Beauty and the Beast." And then "I Could Have Danced All Night" which I realized I knew in Swedish so the second time around, I sang it in Swedish, (a first for Calvin.) That's when a strange and foreign feeling spread across my body. It was a feeling of youth and happiness and love and it flooded my whole being. So, when we got to "My Funny Valentine" I was more confident and secure. As a result, both my throat and my heart were more open.

Calvin said I have a wide range...I hit a high C which surprised me....he also said I have a good ear. Which makes up for the fact that I can barely read music. Calvin was amazing. He's a very accomplished singer in opera and musicals as well as a great director. All in all, it was such a treat and I can't wait to go back next week. I'm not sure where this is all leading but I think this is one of those things I'd like to stick with for a while. Who knows? Maybe I'll be ready to sing an aria at my Forty By Forty Birthday Party? Until then I'll be momomomom and nunununununun and lalalalalalalala-ing in my car. Because it has a cassette player and that's what Calvin gave me. 'Cause he's old school. 

Number 8: Go to Australia

    Here I am in Sydney, Australia. Because of the loooong flight, I figured I'd conquer Number 12: Read War and Peace on the flight. Or at least make a dent, but alas, I'm only on page 50. Out of 1408. I'm trying again on the flight back...  

This was also supposed to be the first time I traveled with my AMERICAN PASSPORT but when I checked in for my flight at LAX, they couldn't find the electronic visa connected to it, so I'm flying Swedish all the way. Glad I grabbed that passport or I would have been in LA still. 

 So, the question is, how do you describe a whole new continent/ country/people in one blog entry? I did what I always do before I go to a new place: go to Wikipedia and find out about its government, economy, geography, etc. To get ready. So, I'm in Sydney, which is in New South Wales, which was the first British colony, established in 1788. People here are called Sydneysiders and they don't seem particularly inspired to part of the Commonwealth. Their money is pretty and you need to use a LOT of it for everything. 

The Nut and the Nazi, party-hopping Oscar night

    It's fall but the weather is nice. A bit rainy at times. I'm here with Radha, and despite the fact that we don't think or feel the same way about anything, she is one of my absolute best friends. I laugh at myself a lot when we're together, because her whole "free-spirit-confused-vibe" makes my "ridiculously-organized-vibe" seem very controlling in a military way. We went ashram hopping and got zapped by a couple gurus in India last year so we know we travel well together. We've had some crazy adventures, and it's not uncommon for Radha to go off for hours in her own world, oblivious to flights and other solid plans. One such time in India, I headed to the airport without her, and eventually, she strolled in leisurely, wearing harem pants...to which I announced "I'll take the plane and you take the magic carpet." (In her defense, I wore them on the plane home...)

The inspiration for my new favorite sport

 We got off the plane (we flew separately but at the same time) and upon seeing each other at the airport in Sydney, I exclaimed "I watched Invictus and feel really strongly that we should spend time with rugby players." She looked at me like I was insane but later proceeded to make arrangements for me to watch Russell Crowe's rugby team train. The hunky players aside, I think it's genius...way more interesting than football...no over-sized protection and for whatever reason, I understand the rules. 

Hipstamatic iPhone app gives a vintage, melancholy feel to beautiful Bondi Beach

 We're in Bondi Beach at the Ravesi Hotel, and I say it over and over again in my newly developed Australian accent which is getting "betta" every day. I'm talking about our friend Nic a lot because I just love saying his name...Niiiiiic. I feel like I'm in a more exotic UK....there's Paddington, Oxford Street, Hyde Park, Kings Cross and Bondi Beach itself feels like a worn, dirty Hampstead - if the Heath was a boardwalk that overlooked a beautiful beach with big blue waves. The Pacific is warm and filled with tall surfers. One of them, Brant, delivers our room service meals. Adorable but with very bad hair. We are the kinds of people who like to leave each place we visit more beautiful than when we arrived, so we proceeded to "help him" with hair style tips. 

 As for Radha, I couldn't ask for a worse tour guide. It's actually because she's working, which is cool with me because I love adventures and I love doing my own thing. So, although we've taken some nice walks for miles along the beach together, I'm spending the day getting to know MY Sydney before we reconvene at night and I tell her about it. Morning coffee in my PJ's and uggs at the cafe next door. One day their quote board had the un-original "Early bird catches the worm," but the following day, the payoff came. Same quote, but underneath it someone had added "but second mouse gets the cheese." That made me laugh. 

 Being Swedish, I love public transportation, both because it tells you something about a country's infrastructure, but also because you get a sense of the locals. What they wear, read, listen to and talk about. I took the bus to the Opera House and then a ferry to Manly where I met a young gentleman who gave me a boomerang with his phone number "so you come back." I swear, I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Left the boomerang on the ferry back. Oh well. Another bad hair do and it's hard to get past that. There seems to be only three options here for the gentlemen; the Rod Blagojevich, the Justin Bieber/Jimmy Neutron combo and the Prince Valiant. The best time to be chatted up by an Aussie is right when they get out of the water, before they've had a chance to style (ruin) their hair.

  
 For dinner one night we went to North Bondi Italian which had an overworked waiter and graffiti on the ceiling. I decided to go Aussie all the way, so I had lamb's brains and a good shiraz. After we ordered, I looked up at the graffiti and and knew I had decided on the right dish. It was delicious if I didn't spend too much time thinking about what it was. Which was hard because Radha kept on reminding me.

 Nic finally got here and complimented me on my Aussie accent at brekkie. We saw his apartment which is fantastic...then I sprawled out on the beach for a few hours and watched people run, surf, box and do exercises on the monkey bars. I had brought War and Peace to ensure I would be able to nap and after watching the super fit Aussies do the workout thing for a while, I fell asleep in the sun. 

     

     The beautiful Botanical Gardens, The Museum of Sydney, and a day at the Zoo (where I saw echidnas, platypus, wallabies, kangaroos, tasmanian devils, red pandas, koalas, emus, wombats and more) was next, as was a whole day spent in bed, talking about life, eating chocolate and laughing. And a swim in the warm Pacific Ocean. All in all, it's been a fantastic trip, not going home yet but time to post the blog and disappear into the Sydney underworld for a bit.

See yar ron...

 

Number 7: Go to Prom

Waiting for my Prom Date

God bless Brian Studler, Todd Stolarski and their fun friends on the Prom Committee for putting the Just Like Heaven prom together. This was so much more than just checking something off a list, I've been dreaming of prom since I was a teenager in Sweden, watching all those American movies with prom queens, cheerleaders and varsity football players and have always felt that my life was missing something because I didn't have that experience.  

As soon as the prom was announced, I immediately started to invite all my foreign friends; the Belgian, the Aussie, the French Canadian, the Frenchman, and also people I suspected of having had a less than satisfactory prom experience. (You know who you are if you're American and was invited.) The whole prom date thing turned out to be quite the ordeal. Do you ask someone or do you wait to be asked? If you wait to be asked, there is always the chance that there's no one left for you to go with...I've seen this in numerous Brat Pack films. I overshot and ended up with two dates which really made me feel like a tormented teenager, but lucky for me one of them didn't get their ticket in time. So that solved that. 

My date for the evening: Lorne Hiltser. Lorne is from Montreal and is a directing fellow at the AFI and one of my best friends. More Jewish intellectual than football player so I adjusted my mental picture for the night accordingly. The dress I wore was a champagne silk vintage dress that belonged to my friend Ellie's grandmother. It fits like a glove. I ran to Rite Aid to get some hair spray, poofed my hair and stuffed a bunch of pins in it to resemble some 50's updo before heading over to Figaro with my sweet and equally prom deprived Aussie friend Radha. That's where we had a drink, some food and met up with beautiful Belgian Zoe in vintage Dolce & Gabbana and waited for our dates.  

      

Lorne showed up with the most beautiful corsage in a plastic box and it literally made my night. I really did feel like a teenager. It was the perfect color and size and I was very upset when I had to let Radha try it on for a minute. It didn't leave my wrist for the rest of the night.  

Soon it was time to go and we piled into two cars and found that the direction "if you're on skid row, you're in the right area" proved to be very helpful. We made our way to an abandoned church downtown, which had been decorated with beautiful streamers, balloons and glittery curtains - thank you Prom Committee! First up, our official prom photo which I'll post as soon as it becomes available. Next, the BAR and finding all our fantastic friends...which we did quickly: Jen, West, Julian & Wei-ning, funny girls Karen & Elena, Sarah Goldfinger, Elysse & Cole, Sparky & Ellis, Todd & Studler and many, many more. 

 

                                                                                                    

          
      
 We danced and danced and danced...it started off prom like, very stiff, awkward, serious, and slow with Lorne's arms firmly planted around my waist. Then they kept on sliding down (as expected) and I kept on moving them back up.

 

     

    

 The most devastating blow came next. It was time for the crowning of the Prom King and Queen and although I had somewhat low expectations going in, when the woman making the announcement said, "she's foreign and this is her first prom" there was no doubt in my mind I was about to get the biggest honor ever bestowed upon me. So my friends started cheering and pushing me towards the front, and the next thing I heard (unfortunately) was: "Ma............ry Lou."

The most priceless photo ever...the moment itself...

 WHAT? Then came that moment we've all seen on TV. You know when the big actor doesn't get the Academy Award but is overly enthusiastic about the person who did...you can tell they're crying on the inside but looking hysterically supportive on the outside. On the inside I heard myself shouting "we was robbed" and pictured myself ripping the crown out of her mousy brown hair, or better, throwing a gallon of blood on her pristine, white dress. 

I had to take a moment. Several actually. And then it came. The prom feeling. The prom experience. Which is what I came for. Unfulfilled expectations. Broken hearts. For both me and Lorne since I had said I would only put out if I was crowned Prom Queen. 

Thanks to all my friends for coming and making it so great...but most of all, THANK YOU Brian Studler. Cause we is FRENZ and I HEART U.