recap of Jan. 12 Thomas Hampson master class

There's a part of me that really wants to title this post "Why Thomas Hampson Is My New Boyfriend." But I'll refrain from such schoolgirlish claims and try to be a grown-up (even though he really is my new boyfriend).

First of all, mad props to my supervisor who, when told on Thursday afternoon of the master class, said, "Oh, well you have to go," and I don't think she even follows classical music (nor do I think she knows about this blog, unless she's secretly tracking my internet history, in which case -- 'sup?). So I did end up taking Friday off, one of the best decisions I made all week.

When I walked into the recital hall at CU at 12:45, my first and recurring thought was, "I can't believe this place isn't already packed." And although more people came in before the class began, I still don't think there were more than 150 people in attendance: students (although certainly not every student in the CU voice program), faculty, a contingent of Ladies Who Lunch who were probably attending every MahlerFest event, and scattered "independents" like me. Mr. Hampson unassumingly entered the hall from the back of the house to no ovation, though he was greeted by long and enthusiastic applause after being introduced that he good-naturedly cut off with a gesture. We, being the good little musicians that we are, obliged subito.

I'm trying really hard to be mature as I write about this, but the giddy voice student in me is waving her hand for attention like Horshack on Red Bull and just needs to say this: Thomas Hampson is so my new boyfriend. OK, girl, just shake it off.

I was hoping that he'd open the master class with a solo of his own, much like my alma mater's most famous alumna did at the master class she gave when I was still a student (after the applause died down, she just said, "Next!" with a gleam in her eye only a spinto would dare). Alas, he didn't sing, only spoke. Well, that's not exactly true, since he sang along with some students or offered up a phrase here or there to illustrate a point.

But what a speaker he is. A couple of times he said, Don't get me started on the Kindertotenlieder or I'll be here all week. To which my response is, Just name the date and I'll be there. Thomas Hampson posesses all of the qualities a modern American opera singer should have. He carries himself as the trained stage actor he is while being completely accessible and bien dans sa peau. He can swoon when describing the poety in one measure of Mahler's orchestrations one minute and later coach the pianist to bring out more inner harmonies because "that's where the sex is." He can go off on a tangent by saying, "I'm sorry, but this currently accepted interpretation we have of 'Ich grolle nicht' is bullshit!" and go on to explain why without feeling he has to apologize for either assuming that everyone in the room is familiar with the song or for the vulgarity. (He had warned us early on that he has the mouth of a sailor at times, yet another reason he's my... well, you know.) Put together with his intelligence, good looks, and beautiful instrument, he is quite simply the Complete Package.

But what about the class, you ask? Well, there is no way that I can adequately relate all that happened or was said, so rather than continue in paragraph form, I'm switching to bullet copy, roughly organized according to the song under discussion. (All songs composed by Mahler, natch, and all singers and pianists were CU students.)

1. Erinnerung sung by a 20-year-old baritone

• The text is about love's torment, but the kind that "hurts so good." Made me reflect on the fact that as a 20-year-old, I would've just nodded my head if asked, "Do you know what I mean when I say that?" but wouldn't have really known what I was talking about. Let's just say that 10 or 15 (or more) years later, I have gained new insight. Some songs just weren't meant for the young 'uns.
• The pianist's job is to play the heartbeat in the music, not to accompany the singer.
• Hear the phrase before you sing or play it, then make audible what you hear.
• Think upbow with the phrase, not downbow, both in terms of how you're using your body and how you're breathing.

2. Liebst du um Schonheit sung by a 24-year-old baritone

• To Hampson, this singer seemed to be getting wrapped up in the meaning of the text almost too much, and warned him against making it too personal, which pushes the audience away. Bring the audience to you instead. Our job is not to re-live emotion, but to re-create it for the audience. It reminded me some of the little bit of the Meisner acting technique that I've studied, in which your first job is to stay constantly in the moment with your partner and not get wrapped up in your own emotion. (You might describe Meisner as the "anti-Method.")
• Hampson had this singer work with his physicality through the use of gestures ("pretend you're an alte rebbe with your hands") and through taking steps backward while singing. The point of stepping backward is that it forces you to center and balance your spine, bringing everything else into alignment, and counters the tendency to hunch forward. Hampson's understanding of what he called Anatomy 101 and its impact on singing was on full display. He contends that "there's nothing 'relaxed' in singing, least of all the jaw."
• "When I need more energy or I need help, I move backward."

3. Nun will die Sonn' so hell aufgen sung by a 35-year-old baritone, an age Hampson called "the birth of a baritone's life"

• Here beginneth the Kindertotenlieder lecture series, for which Hampson apologized to the singer for taking up so much of his stage time by talking. But trust me, the audience was eating it up with a spoon.
• To the pianist: "Try not to be musical... play it as polyphony... make it more ambivalent." Hampson's point was that nature is ambivalent, nature doesn't care about humans but that we project emotion onto nature. But the sun rises each day regardless of the death of children, and the pianist must reflect that ambivalence of nature and not get too musical (read: emotional).
• To the singer: "You don't have the right to question the mysteries (of life), but you do have the right to understand them."
• "Profound things may be slow, but very rarely are slow things profound... Don't be slow."

4. Das irdische Leben sung by a 22-year-old mezzo-soprano

• Again, there was physical work with walking backward to find better balance in the body.
• As a mezzo whose technique has never been as good as this student's, I must say that I was impressed with her. But Hampson pointed out that she may eventually find herself more comfortable in a soprano fach, as her upper range was stronger than her middle and lower. He told her, "your idea of singing is stronger than your understanding of your body," and then reprimanded everyone in the audience who thought s/he could have a professional career without working out regularly.

One overriding point made with all the singers is that we must constantly strive for a balance between the physical, the emotional (including all the components in playing a role), and the spiritual. A singer is only as good as her/his weakest moment in maintaining that balance. Which reminds me -- I better start practicing again.

Oh, and one more thing: Thomas Hampson is totally my new boyfriend.