Paul Dorgan (Accompanist)

 The last time I was on a theatre stage (as opposed to a concert stage) was...well "in another life", as Maria says. I was a super in productions of TOSCA and TURANDOT. All I had to was process across the stage with a bunch of other supers at the end of the first act of TOSCA; our "rehearsal" consisted in showing up at the theatre an hour before the opening performance
where the director (who spoke no English) said he would cue us when to start (I think that's what he said), and then up to costumes to find something that would fit. In TURANDOT I was a guard, armed with a very un-intimidating whip-thing. That did require a real rehearsal, but the only thing I remember about that was looking into the orchestra pit and seeing one of the horn players reading a magazine instead of his part! Flash forward to this life-time and MASTER CLASS, with a definite character who actually has to say (learn) lines, and remember where and when to say them! Oy vey, as Manny might well say, being Jewish - though we never figured out why Maria seems to make a big deal of that. Playing the arias didn't bother me: I knew them from various productions of the operas I've rehearsed; and I've played for enough Master Classes to know when to tune in and out of what the Master Teacher says, though Maria says far more than anyone in my experience (note to Maria: get over Athens for gawdssake!). It was the lines that terrified me. They still do! But our director, David Mong, was very kind and encouraging, and what a privilege to be harassed by Anne Cullimore Decker! And in public!!! Which is not to ignore the rest of the wonderful company that is MASTER CLASS: Natalie, Stefanie, Shane, Josh, and our stage-manager Arika, our island of calm, who does her best, in the nicest way possible, to keep us all straight. Thank you all for a wonderful experience. Thank you Anne for twisting my arm - pain has never been so enjoyable! And thank you Nancy Borgenicht for asking me: Opera Tampa will never forgive you!

 Natalie Blackman (Soprano- Sophie)   

 First I’d like to mention this is my first blog, so Madama Decker, you aren’t alone. That’s right, a twenty-something blogging novice...perhaps all the stereotypes of the high tech next generation are not quite as pervasive as we think. But luckily, they’ve gone easy on me, only a paragraph has been requested of me.

What I want to express, above anything else, is just how grateful I am. Grateful to work for a theatre company that is innovative, bold and compassionate. Grateful for the opportunity to share the stage with a wonderful cast including the magnificent and gracious Ms. Anne Cullimore Decker. Grateful to have been given the chance to immerse myself in the actual world of an opera singer while working with Dr. Paul Dorgan, our music director. Oh so grateful to have been in the hands of David Mong, the gentle genius, and finally to be left with such a gift of a stage manager, the compassionate yet eminently effective, Arika Schockmel. I’m sure I could write much more than a blog in homage to every one of you. But perhaps, above any of these, I am grateful for the serendipitous and timely intersection of this play with my life. I am a student at the University of Utah. I have been a student now for twenty consecutive years. I have no memory of a time when I was not a student. Yet, I am finally at the precipice, my senior year of college. The nurturing environment that has held me for as long as I can remember is about to let go. This plunge into the “real world”, that “brutal place,” as La Divina puts it, is frightening for students. I often talk with my friends (who are majoring is such pragmatic fields as medicine and engineering) and we share our concerns about the utterly unknowable future.  One might think that I, a student of the arts, would find making my way in the world as an artist, especially in today’s world, a petrifying notion. But as of late I am devoid of such fears. “How can that be?” one might wonder. Perhaps I am just brimming with naivete, but I think being part of this production has given me far deeper reasons not to fear. Backstage every night when I listen to this story of unshakable dedication I am invigorated. Even through circumstances that are far harsher than I imagine I’ll ever have to endure this woman was undeniably successful at touching lives with her art. One could argue it was those hardships that created her steadfast commitment to artistic integrity. In fact, La Maria seemed to survive on art. She “lived, ate and slept music.” In my own way, I’ve realized it is art that has sustained me too. Art has taught me, and continues to teach me, what it is to be human. So even at my highest high or my lowest low I know I will survive because art has taught me that it is all part of being human. I think about this backstage every night when I hear La Maria courageously declare that she knows that “what we do matters.” In the way that it has taught me how to express my humanity and empathize with the humanity of others I know just how much art has mattered to me. I now know that art can sustain me. I know there will be hardships lined up to fortify my dedication and force to me to be creative. Most of all, I know that what we do matters. Thus, I find no room for fear. I am filled to the brim with eagerness and excitement because there could not possibly be a better time to be a young artist. 

 Shane Haag (Tenor- Tony)

 MASTER CLASS has been a great experience for me. In high school I started getting into opera music. I didn’t think I would ever be able to sing operatically however so I turned to acting and the theatre.  After a couple years of high school theatre, I started taking voice lessons and got encouragement, so I turned my attention back to classical singing. I thought from the beginning that this role would be a great fit for me for that reason.  It combines classical singing and great theatre in a very alluring fashion.  During the rehearsal process David Mong helped me explore every possible emotional motivation and delivery we could think of.  What you see now in the show is what we thought works best.  It has been fun and rewarding, and everyone has been great to work with.

Stefanie Londino (Soprano- Sharon)

 Oh, really, for heaven's sake, who can write these things and not feel silly and terribly exposed!? Maybe its just me, my shyness, that makes it so hard to summon words worth your reading, for Sharon to summon a Lady Macbeth worth the watching. Simply, and with a disappointed resignation that is quite debilitating, Maria chalks it up to one thing: "You're young." She tells me this every night (and twice on Sundays) so I can't get it out of my head. And its true. I'm the youngest person in the cast (a month and a half Natalie's junior, if you can believe it) with only 22 years under my belt, and I feel...well, green.
Its interesting how much smarter I was when I was 17; sure of my decisions, and convinced my mother had no idea what life was like. Now, sadly, I am aware of the anomaly that is growing up. Seventeen is the peak of the curve; until you get to about 30 and start getting smart, you just get more and more stupid. Or perhaps you just realize how stupid you are. Decisions you make backfire, and suddenly you meet Doubt. The consequences you'd been shielded from now repay you for your choices with surprising force. And worst of all, you learn that your mother is always, always (annoyingly) right, and you should have listened. Well, I acknowledge my youth and its inevitable twin, naivete. However, through Maria and this incredibly crafted script, I have learned and realized a few things, and they, like the new friendships I have found with my fellow castmates, are the treasures I take with me when we close. I have come to the conclusion that this one is the most important, so here it is:
Love is a burden. Terrible and wonderful at the same time, it is what makes life worth living, and impossible to live. It is both incredibly empowering and makes us incredibly vulnerable. It feeds us, and makes us hunger. Love is what it all comes down to. It is what breaks us or builds us up, and it often does both.
For myself, and like Maria, I choose a life of love, however painful it may be. I choose to seek love and give love to the people who mean something, though I know they may sometimes disappoint me. I choose a career of deep love and passion, though I know it may not always be fruitful. I choose to carry the burden, and I wish this burden for you.
S