April is my month, it always has been.  This April I find myself in the middle of a crazily creative time. I’m recording my first solo album; I’m creating a role in a beautiful new play; UrbanArias is presenting, perhaps, our most vital new work thus far. How can this be?  The world is hurting.  We awakened this April week to another shooting, and another young Black  life so tragically lost. Look at this list of recent shootings and tell me not to panic.  Read the names of dead Black and Asian folks and tell me we don’t have a problem.  The middle- of-this-month days seem to always be fraught. The Titanic, Waco, the Oklahoma City Bombing.  My creative spurt, my birthday joy, is tempered.

And yet I hope.  I’m not the only one experiencing the clichéd spring rebirth: the renewal out there seems non-stop.  I see it in friend’s social feeds and hear it in students’ voices; neighbors make eye contact on the evening walk and the local flora and fauna are pre-June busting out all over. As we come out of our collective forced hibernation, the exuberance is palpable.    

So what is this time supposed to be? We’re all wondering, I think; we’re looking for something to hold onto in this newly exuberant world.  This last year brought deep sadness to so many, frustration and loss for all of us.   Our semi-drunken, bewildered state - drunk on life and possibility - is edged by the difficult facts of (almost) post-pandemic life. For me, holding onto my art is how I cope, how I maintain my exuberance and fight my sadness, it’s my way forward.  It’s what I wish.

THE ALBUM: I WISH IT SO

This album is born out of a holiday show I created with the incredible collaborative pianist Howard Breitbart in December 2020, the title track of which is “I Wish It So,” a song written by Marc Blitzstein in 1959 for his musical Juno. It’s sung by an Irish lass (of course) who’s longing for more, but who’s also fearful of the madness of life and so frustrated, unable to pinpoint what happens next.  Like Cinderella in an imagined third act in the infamous woods, now what would she do, now what does she wish? 

Why, you may ask, would a holiday album open with a distinctly un-holiday tune? I’ve always loved this song, and it seemed the perfect way to capture what we needed at such an extraordinary time, when we couldn’t guess what was next and when we didn’t dare to wish.  I'll be writing more in the coming days about it, but the album is my playlist of sorts; it’s my own search for exuberance after a year of weighted worry. There are perhaps more “spring” songs than should perhaps be on a Christmas album.  But why not?

“For I wish it so!
What I wish I still don't know
But it's bound to come
Though so long to wait
I keep saying "Tonight!"
Or "Today!" through the endless days
And my heart clamors and prays
It will not come too late
But when come it does,
In the shape of love or life
I will give my life,
And my love I know.
I've such grand aims
With so many names
That I grow numb
But sure one is bound to come
Because I wish, I wish it so!”

And art, like life takes a village. In my case it takes a #DreamTeam: Matt Conner @capricornmjc, Warren Freeman @warrfree and of course, Howard.

THE PLAY: OBJECT RELATIONS

“Beauty cracks us open when we are ready.”  writes Object Relations playwright Alyson Gold Weinberg. The brand-new play, premiering April 24, is about a relationship between a woman and her brilliant therapist. And talk about timely - we all could use professional help after this crap year, this crap week for goodness sake.  My character, Sam Kanter ( #alwaysSam), is just about to crack open - she’s bursting with words, testing the waters of sharing her art and trying so hard to engage with the world on her own terms. She’s becoming herself.  I get her, let’s just say, and I won’t give away more of the story; please watch.

Art relieves our mental fog, so does talking to someone, so does paying attention to loved ones and friends who may not be able to tell us they need us.  Alyson also writes:

“Let's embrace vulnerability. Let's embrace duality. Embrace plays and poetry, actors and their artistry, the person inside a professional.” 

Art, like therapy, allows the watcher/listener/viewer to connect with their vulnerability, and connection heals.  Accessibility to both art and therapy is vital for our troubled times. And appropriately, Alyson has created a cool playlist for the show - Sam is partial to Nirvana, Led Zeppelin, Fiona Apple for lighter moments.  But I’d argue that Sam’s musical theatre song is “I Wish It So.”   Unsure, melancholy, a little bitter about the past.  Her future is on the tip of her tongue. 

Also, fun full village disclosure - Alyson and I met back in middle school. I’m playing opposite my dear friend and (and sorority sister #KitesFlyHigh) badass Anne Tolpegin, @anneetolpegin who in turn brought in Lizzie Shivener @lizzieshive, receptionist and comedienne extraordinaire.  They all have their own beautiful stories to tell and our ongoing game of #SixDegreesOfObjectRelations tickles us no end- follow them all, please.

THE OPERA: dwb DRIVING WHILE BLACK

dwb (DRIVING WHILE BLACK) is a one-act, one-woman opera By Robert Gumbel and Susan Kander that tells the story of a Black woman, The Mother, as she raises and worries about her “beautiful brown boy;” UrbanArias has turned it into a film directed and choreographed by DuBois and Camry A’Keen. @akeenbrand 

Any story about motherhood moves me, but of course I cannot begin to grasp her pain; its importance is human. It’s our responsibility, and honor, to present it.  UrbanArias’ Executive Director Anne Carolyn Bird wrote this week that “all good art is political,” quoting Toni Morrison.  Read her whole post here.  And she’s right. I am so grateful that the UrbanArias village has her, and of course Artistic Director Robert Wood; the whole team continues to work so hard, as they have throughout the pandemic, to forward our mission of #OperaShortNew.

This art gives us much to unpack, but for now I will say that  the beauty and dignity of The Mother, as embodied by soprano Karen Slack and her delicious soprano, knocks me over. She’s accompanied by just cello and percussion, two opposite instruments that to my ear personify her constant battle - her deep love for and growing pride in her son, spun out in the long bow arcs from the cello, rudely interrupted by brutal sounds of cymbals, her ever-present panic brought to shattering life.  She wraps her trauma in a steely grace; she is a queen in every sense of the word. Follow Karen @kikislacksoprano.

“Comfort has come to be its own corruption,”  wrote Lorraine Hansberry. Karen’s singing is like a delicious safe hug which belies what The Mother feels. The depth of her wishing is profound.  And none of us should be comforted.

So that’s what I’m doing in this strange new world, in sweet April.  I share my birthday month with many who are dear to me: Roo Credit, the most joyful human in the world is also today; my grandmother Gronkie of “Wonderful You” cheerleading fame is April 13; my Aunt Carole is April 16; my partner in opera and NU dearest Bob is the 20th, my brother, @southernfriedPHD pictured eyeing my cake on my socials, is the 22nd.  And so many dear friends - you know who you are.  April gives us so much, even as she takes.  So what I wish for my birthday is peace.  I wish you love.  I wish for beauty to crack us all open.

I’m hopeful.  So what do you wish? 

MORE ON APRIL:

“Thank God for our poets, here in the mildness of April and in the winter storms alike, who help us find the words our own tongues feel too swollen to speak. Thank God for the poets who teach our blinkered eyes to see these gifts the world has given us, and what we owe it in return.” - Margaret Renkl