How Fat I Really Am

It never ceases to amaze me how well the human mind can trick itself. Throughout my life I have struggled with my weight. I understood to a certain point how much weight I had gained and I took small measures to quell its course. I recently finished a challenge I set for myself to walk everyday for 80 days straight. I finished that challenge and went on to the next. My next step will be walking the Seattle Marathon at the end of November.

Today was day two of marathon training which included going to the gym for an hour of strength training (I love that class and had done it for over a month last year and enjoyed it thoroughly, so it was a joy to rejoin the class), followed by a mile-long walk. One of the walls at the gym is completely made out of mirrors and it was the first time I had really looked at myself in awhile. I hardly recognized who I saw looking back at me, as clichéd as that sounds.

I had noticed my clothes getting tighter recently and food has always been my comfort strategy when I'm stressed out. These past two weeks have been really stressing me out, what with moving across state and having to start over from scratch. Even being on vacation stresses me out (I really like having a set schedule). So I had been eating a lot more than usual. But none of that knowledge prepared me for what I saw. And I realized exactly how fat I really am.

People have always been kind in saying that I carry my weight well and that I look really good, but recently I've been noticing how quickly my joints wear out, numbness when I sit in a chair (most chairs are far too small and hit my legs in the weirdest places), that sort of thing. But still I tricked myself into thinking that I am much smaller than I actually am. I got to the point where I could joke about my weight and actually felt at home in my skin. That was a false indicator. Now I feel even less at home in my skin because I do not feel as fat as I am. Now I know, more than ever, how hard I need to work to be healthy and how much time I really need to spend on myself.

I am not saying any of this to be down on myself or anyone else. It was simply an epiphany that I had today, and realized exactly how much time I hadn't been spending on my own health and well-being. At this point I understand how big my body is, how alive and ready I am to live, and how much I need to match my body to my mind. I do not see fat when I look into the mirror. I see me.

Now it's time for the world to see me, too.

First Studio Album

To all of my wonderful friends, family, and fans:

I am working on a second album! However, this will be my first studio album, recorded in Seattle at a top studio with music composed by top up-and-coming composers. However, I NEED YOUR HELP! In 30 days I need to raise the costs of recording the album! I'll be looking for corporate sponsors for my recital tour and music video, but I like the idea of funding a grass-roots album with the help of family and friends.

There are some awesome rewards involved as well, so go check out my page and consider being a part of this next step in my career!

Gratefully,

Ira

A link to my Kickstarter page can be found right here.

The things we do...

I have reached that stage in my career. Yes, that one. The one where I'll take any job I can because my college loans are looming dead ahead and I cannot avoid them any longer.

I count myself lucky. Scholarships, loans, and grants covered roughly two-thirds of my private Christian school undergraduate education, and I had a teaching assistantship in grad school that granted me a tuition waiver and stipend. So I really don't have much to pay back, right? Except for the fact that I owe around $400 a month for the next 25 years. That's what I'm dealing with.

So how am I dealing with the Loans? Well, I have a wonderful job that I love and my coworkers are my second family... But that only pays for living expenses. Barely. So I just took a second job. Two jobs, you say? That can't be that bad. Many people have two jobs. And they do! And they manage them well! However, I am working graveyard shifts at my second job that make it so I don't get to go to bed between the end of that shift and starting at my first job. Factor in, then, my job as a church choir section leader, my private voice students, and my own personal projects, and I really don't know how I'm holding it together.

In fact, as I write this, I have been awake for the past 24 hours and will not be able to go home and go to bed for another six. This is far from ideal. I am not complaining. No, I will not kvetch. I am so grateful that I have the jobs I do, and that soon I'll be able to start saving some money, especially with a big move coming up in the very near future. So what's the point? Why do I need to tell you all about my grueling work schedule? To tell you that it's good. It's a season of my life that I need to have.

These past few days I have learned more about how to take care of myself and listen to the needs of my body. I have hydrated more (though, imbibed a bit more caffeine than I would like to admit to), laughed at great tv shows (the two episodes I've watched), and allowed myself to cry while listening to Beethoven (go read the Heiligenstadt Testament while listening to his seventh symphony and you will, too). I have realized what it feels like to be truly sleep-deprived, and that water will often serve me better than another cup of coffee or Mountain Dew. I've also seen kindness from my coworkers and managers that I never would have seen otherwise.

Beyond that, though, it's showing me that my career is not going to be all rose-petals and fairy tales. I'm going to have to work hard for what I want out of life. Everyone has to take jobs they don't particularly enjoy in order to get where they're going. I have great things on the horizon and I cannot wait to tell you all what is coming up in the next six months for me. But for now, for this season, I will be tired. I will have the most purple bags under my eyes that you'll ever see. I will have some nasty acid reflux because of caffeine consumption. I may even be grumpier than usual and more business-like. I apologize now and am so grateful for the grace I know I'm going to receive from those around me.

Let this be my encouragement to you: It will get better. Keep your chin up, sternum raised, and aim into the sunlight because there is always going to be something to look forward to and some way to endure and, perhaps, enjoy the crazy circumstances in which you find yourself currently.

Buck up, pal. We are all there with you.

Composer, Lyricist, Book Writer

I am a singer. But I'm also a composer.

It started when I was ten years old, or so. My sister was in the most advanced group of a western Washington orchestra organization and was on retreat with said orchestra. My mother was a chaperone, so that left my father and I at home. After forcing my dad to watch Star Wars, Episode I: The Phantom Menace about six times through in one day ("because I want to memorize it"), he decided that he and I should drive out to the orchestra retreat and visit my mom and sister, and listen to the orchestra rehearse. Being the rather... enthusiastic kid I was, as soon as we got there I was bored. The conductor of the orchestra took me aside and handed me his laptop with an early version of Finale on it. After writing two bars-worth of a subject, he turned the computer to me and said, "finish the piece." I labored over it for a couple hours and finally finished a single-page, fugue-like, two-part invention for piano.

While I haven't seen the piece in over fifteen years (it's floating around somewhere on the piano in my parents' basement), it served as a milestone in my life. After that I would run around finding manuscript, writing random music notes, rests, clefs, time signatures, and key signatures, throw them onto my older sister's music stand while she was practicing her violin, then request that she play it, "now." She always made up something that sounded good, though it definitely was not the chicken-scratch I had written.

The next time I remember actually trying to compose was after visiting the Juilliard School during a trip to New York in 2003. I remember this vividly as we were caught in the Great Northeast Blackout at JFK airport. We had just found out that all flights out and in had been canceled and we were stranded for at least a day or two. My dad went to wrangle a free hotel room, my mom tried her best to be calm, and my sister did her best Monica impression. I sat down on my suitcase, pulled out the gigantic binder of orchestral manuscript paper I had just purchased at the Juilliard gift shop, and began to write "Gandalf's Song." The Lord of the Rings was very popular, and I was sure that I was going to ride that wave of popularity by being the first twelve-year-old to have a major work performed by the Seattle Symphony. Suffice it to say, "Gandalf's Song" still sits in a pile on that same basement piano with only about two pages written. Maybe I'll return to it some day, but probably not.

In college I turned to writing art songs as my voice major kicked in. I wrote many art songs my freshman year along with a requiem, which still sits unfinished.

All this to say, I have dabble quite a bit with composing over the years. But never as much as I am right now. I have begun work on a full-scale, five-act dramatic opera. I'm using the ancient story of Beowulf and adding in a few of my own elements. While it is still unfinished, it is scheduled for workshopping by mid-February, with the hopes of having it performed (at least in a concert version) by the end of May. This is my first, true attempt to write a piece that could be published and performed throughout the world. It's in English, with some bits of the original Old-English text thrown in, so as to reach modern American audiences, but also so I can act as my own librettist. I always held in high regard composers such as Wagner, Berlioz, and Berg, as well as musical theater composers like Sondheim who created their own text and music so as to create a cohesive whole. This is my aim: To create a work that shows the depth of the original poem, is relevant to today's society, and has music and text that work together to portray truly human characters.

If it never gets published or performed outside of my own attempts, so be it. But at least I know that I have accomplished something great and something that I have wanted to do for a long time. If it catches on, be ready for more. I have a list of ideas already growing.

The Eternal Question

Why do I perform? What egoistic ideal drives the maniacal mind behind the voice? How dare I presume to stand in front of crowds under a spotlight?

I have been confronted by others asking me these questions. Heck, I ask myself these questions every time I get on stage for the next show. What is it about myself that I think is worth sharing with an audience? Even on a blog such as this. Why do I think my voice should be more powerful than anyone else's?

Easy: I don't.

This question has plagued me throughout my career thus far, especially the past month or so as I prepare myself to move to the Big Apple next Fall. I keep psychoanalyzing myself, calling myself out on whatever Id is driving me. And yet, I hardly feel like an egoist. I have more insecurities than I would care to name to anyone, even my closest friends, I have created more hardships for myself than I probably should have, and I worry constantly about what others think of me. Draw whatever conclusions you wish, but I think I know my answer.

I love. I love a lot. Even if it seems like I dislike you with a fiery passion, I love you. I have often said that the opposite of love isn't hate. Hate means you still care about someone. The opposite is indifference and, goodness knows, I have never been indifferent about a thing in my life.

I found myself talking to a group of high schoolers a couple weeks ago about why I teach voice lessons. I had never thought about it before, and I hadn't prepared my speech. However, as I started to ramble, my mind made its way back to a point I used to drill in to my college students' heads: Do not sing if you do not have something to say. Plain and simple. You get on stage, you have something important to say. End of story. If you don't, leave. That may sound harsh, but the business is harsh and you need to find your heart in the matter or else you'll become bitter and cruel.

So what do I have to say when I get on stage? I think it's my over-stated way of telling the audience I love them and, while I may not be able to empathize with them, I can certainly sympathize with them. Being human is difficult and none of us should be on this road alone.

In one of my undergrad courses we talked quite often about why we do what we do. It was a non-traditional theatre course, so we had many metaphysical and philosophical conversations as a group, but this one stuck with me the most. Being a small, private, Christian school we needed to discuss how we could rationalize performing a deplorable character while maintaining the moral fiber of our faith. I don't remember every argument on either side, but I remember the one that stuck with me and resonated with my story: Each human being, whether we see them as scrupulous or not, has a story, has an asterisk at the end of their sentence, and far be it from me to say I am unwilling to provide that story to those who may not have had access to it in the past.

This then leads me to say that, if I need to share people's stories, I have to have a reason to share them. I share because I love the audience. I care about their futures. I want to be able to share with them something that might help them further on in their lives.

I don't want to ramble, so I will leave it at that. I have a reason to be on stage and it is not to satisfy my ego. It is because I am locked in a relationship with the audience and I care deeply about them. If anything kept me from that, I don't know what I'd do.

The Performer and the Role

There is something I have had to struggle with as an actor for years. It frustrated me at first, even kept me from really wanting to perform. It disgusted me, frightened me, and disillusioned me. How could I play that person on stage?

There is also something that audience members struggle with. It frustrates them, and even keeps them at arms length from the performer. It creeps them out, scares them, and even frightens them away. Of course they are that person in real life.

The distinction between performer and role is a tough one to find. I first started thinking about it when I went to see a production of Miss Saigon in Seattle almost ten years back. It was an event focused at educating young actors and giving them an inside look at theater. We all came in early in the afternoon, were given a chance to rehearse numbers from the show with the music director and had a pizza feed. But the part that still sticks with me today was the Q&A session with a few of the actors. For those of you who don't know, Miss Saigon is written by Boublil and Schönberg (the creative team behind Les Miserables), and chronicles the life of a young Vietnamese girl who is forced into a life of prostitution, falls in love with an American soldier, bears him a child, and ultimately commits suicide. Horribly uplifting.

This show has a role in it that frustrated me to no end. It is that of Jane, the American soldier's wife in the US who comes to Vietnam and meets the prostitute and dukes it out for her husband. This role was played by a lady who taught me a lesson that I still think about to this day: The performer and the role are separate things. While she may not have said it so succinctly, the heart of the matter is there. We often get caught up in the idea that actors are the characters they portray.

Before you start arguing, I will grant you one concession. Every role I play has a part of me in it. Whenever I take on a role that has been played for decades or centuries, I have to find my voice through it. I find that kernel of truth that resonates with me through the character's bad choices or terrible fashion. I need to be able to show an audience who the character truly is, and therefore I must find a way to make that character me (or make myself the character). But ultimately, they are just that. A character.

I recently watched the documentary "I Am Divine" about the late, great drag performer. He made a brilliant point during one of his interviews where he noted to the host that he did not show up in drag because that was his "j-o-b" and not who he really was. He insisted that Divine was in the closet and a couple of suitcases rather than on the show that night. This really struck me. A performer as iconic as Divine made a distinction between himself and his female character. This distinction has been made throughout the centuries as such famous actors as Marilyn Monroe and Lady Gaga. People who are willing to create a character that sells in order to maintain some semblance of themselves to share with their friends and family.

Once all of that had stuck in my mind, I started thinking about myself and how I act around those I love and trust versus those I work with and spend time with on a daily basis. I realized that even I put on an act when I'm at work. I'm all smiles and caffeine, and would-you-like-an-extra-shot-in-that-drink. But when I'm at home I'm more genuine and listen more carefully. Is this necessarily a bad distinction to make? I grew up in a society that said that having two faces was a bad thing. I took this to heart. But then what that actress in Seattle said to me all those years ago changed that in my mind. It is okay to put on a facade if it is for the use of a character. If I am using that effervescent person to put a smile on someone's face and brighten their day, I'm all for that. In contrast, if I am cast in an opera or any other show in which I must play the villain or the unsavory character, I am more than willing, because that character helps the plot and can, in and of themselves, teach a lesson.

Now, all of that aside, if I were to only be that person, that persona, I would have a problem as I wouldn't ever be able to fully participate in a discussion, or comfort a friend, or cut loose and enjoy a party. But I need to know, for my own sake, the difference between me and my character.

Whenever you meet a performer, get to know them as they are, not as the character they portray. I had that issue with the actress from Miss Saigon. Even though she was the one who taught me the lesson that shaped me the most in my high school years, I couldn't distinguish her from that person I remember from the balcony of the 5th Avenue Theater. This past Summer I spent several weeks as a music director for an elementary-aged musical theater camp and worked one-on-one with many of the office workers and administrative helpers at our parent company. As I was helping to pack up the van on the last day of camp for the summer I struck up a conversation with the lady who was packing it with me. Turns out she had a higher-level degree in voice sciences and had been on a national tour with a show and had Broadway credits. She even mentioned that she had been in Miss Saigon at the 5th Avenue Theater years back. It took me by surprise that the middle-class working mother I had been working alongside all Summer was the lady who inspired me as a high schooler.

Do not be fooled by the characters we play. Us performers like to put on an act to shield ourselves from the hurt and pain we know will happen to us as humans, but take the time to get to know us and you will find people as normal as the rest of humanity. Dig through the roles we play to find the performer underneath. You may be surprised.

"Fat Opera Singer"

Read this first *Language Disclaimer*: http://everydayfeminism.com/2013/10/lets-talk-about-thin-privilege/

While this article is aimed at women, it applies to men as well. It is a very interesting article, and I agree wholeheartedly. I often feel like I have to explain myself to the cashier at the grocery store simply because I'm buying a couple frozen meals to have on hand in case I need something fast before a rehearsal. I have been told by flight attendants that I need to buy a second seat for myself the next time I fly. I have had people laugh at me for walking around with a McDonald's bag when that was the only food I could afford before going to work.

Ms. Fabello makes some great points about privilege in general and the responses to fat- and skinny-shaming. However, she forgets to note that eating disorders aren't only for thin people. I am considered to have an eating disorder because I stress-eat and I often feel "addicted" to food. I also have hypothyroidism and have been told for a very long time that I am not as good as I could be as a human because I'm overweight. Now, these people that have mentioned my weight to me may have had very good intentions (teachers, friends, family members, etc.), but by pointing out that I really should do something about my weight if I was going to make it in this world it made me feel like I was less than I should be.

This same idea comes to play as an opera singer. Read this article before continuing: http://www.npr.org/blogs/deceptivecadence/2014/05/20/314007632/in-2014-the-classical-world-still-cant-stop-fat-shaming-women

What is disheartening to me about that article is the fact that Miss Erraught is by no means obese. She is a full-figured women, but can anyone tell me why that is bad? When did someone's weight become the deciding factor over whether someone was healthy? Or even if they are talented? This issue has come to a head in my own life while I follow the Barihunks blog. There are some seriously talented singers on this blog; there are some that I would challenge in terms of technique, but there are many talented singers on this blog. However, I have recently realized that the Barihunks have been fat-shaming me inadvertently. Here I am, holding them up as the pinnacle of what an operatic baritone's body should be, all the while feeling like crap because that is not what I am.

The conclusion I have come to after 24 years of feeling sorry for myself and not feeling human because of the culture in which I live is that I am myself. I am exactly what I am supposed to be right now. I have also realized that I am nowhere near the health I should be in at this point in time. When I see friends rock climbing, I realize that I could not do that because I have no upper arm strength. I see friends walking everywhere and enjoying it, but I nearly died after a 2.45 mile walk yesterday and had to take the bus home just so I wouldn't faint. This is where I am: I need to be aware of my health, both for my own sake and the sake of my career.

I am in a perfect place to do this. I live in Missoula, Montana, where being outdoorsy is cool. People are constantly biking, running, walking, jogging, anything to be outside and exercise. I live within minutes' drives of hundreds of hiking trails. I am poised for a health shift, and I am working hard at that right now. I am tracking the food I'm eating, how much exercise I'm getting, even being aware of how much sugar I'm intaking (this is a big one as I work at Starbucks... those coffees sure stack up!). This is not because I feel shame for being fat anymore. In fact, I'm rather glad I'm obese. I'm rather vain and can only imagine how narcissistic I would be if I had our culture's idea of a perfect body. Instead, I take myself where I am and see myself getting to the health level at which I need to be.

Keep me honest. Ask me what I had to eat today. Check up on my water intake, how much sleep I'm getting, what I'm eating for snacks, and whether or not I'm exercising. I need the help to stay on track to get myself healthy and able to keep up with my friends and family.

Fat-shame me all you want, but "I'm big, [not so] blonde, and beautiful."