Adieu a Paris...we're all on our way home, after six successful evenings
at the Châtelet.
The dress rehearsal was as perfect as you could ask for - which set us up for an electric first night. The singers, cast and production staff worked so hard and the developing of relationships with the HGO crew and people at the Châtelet has been wonderful to watch. The crew of the Châtelet have been so supportive and they now have Mariachi music in their souls! I am very proud of how everyone here has represented HGO and the quality that they bring to their work.
From the very first night, the singers absolutely brought their A game and delivered a wonderfully strong and moving performance. They had the audience with them from start to finish and were absolute superstars on a stage full of stars.
What can you say about Vargas that hasn't already been said? Boy, are they showmen! - they feed off the passion and energy of a full house and seemed about a foot taller than the previous day. They were certainly louder! The curtain call each night was extraordinary ...if we had not brought the house lights up we might still be there now! Each performance was just as good, if not better, than the one before.
This is the next step in the evolution of the show - I think it will continue to grow and develop. Lenny Foglia is a master story teller and draws performances and paints pictures like few others. It is truly incredible how many sombreros he has worn on this show - he is its
heartbeat!
We send love and thanks from a little corner of Paris that has been the Hispanic Quarter for the past few days.
Mucho gusto
Perryn
Monday, September 26, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Greetings from Paris
Greetings from Paris, where we are a little more than 24 hours away from opening night at the Châtelet. The cast and the team behind Cruzar la cara de la luna are excited and ready to bring down the house with our made-in-Texas Mariachi opera!
I’m pleased to share with you this editorial from this morning’s HOUSTON CHRONICLE, which talks about our activities here in Paris and in Houston that bring acclaim and vitality to the city we call home.
HGO is becoming more relevant and important to our growing metropolis. These programs are two examples of how we embrace and serve our community. This is only possible through your continued patronage and support. Many, many thanks!
Perryn Leech
Managing Director
Houston Grand Opera
I’m pleased to share with you this editorial from this morning’s HOUSTON CHRONICLE, which talks about our activities here in Paris and in Houston that bring acclaim and vitality to the city we call home.
HGO is becoming more relevant and important to our growing metropolis. These programs are two examples of how we embrace and serve our community. This is only possible through your continued patronage and support. Many, many thanks!
Perryn Leech
Managing Director
Houston Grand Opera
Monday, January 31, 2011
What a rush!
houstRauli Garcia, HGO’s Chief Financial Officer, on his stage debut as a supernumerary actor in Dead Man Walking.
On opening night, I found myself onstage in front of more than 2000 people. By this time I was confident that I knew what I would have to do, and when to do it. I was pretty calm, except for the fact that I was also very excited!
I could not really see the audience most of the time. From the stage, all I can really see is the edge of the orchestra pit, and then a reddish darkness that begins right on the other side of the orchestra. In the midst of the darkness, the windows of the sound booth at the back of the theater reflect the stage, and every now and then I see faint silhouettes of people in the audience.
It was quite a rush when I got to run across the stage to tackle John Packard, who plays the victim's father, before he reaches Frederica von Stade during her testimony as Mrs. Patrick De Rocher. When I got to John, I practically crashed into him! That must have been the adrenaline through my veins ... When we escorted him to his side of the stage, my heart was thumping pretty hard. As we guarded him throughout the last part of the scene, I tried hard not to breathe audibly.
The next time I was on stage was with Ms. Von Stade (affectionately known as “Flicka”) and Joyce DiDonato. What an honor!!
Early on in the rehearsal process, Anthony Freud and I discussed my participation in that scene. He exclaimed, “Rauli, do you know that you alone are on stage with Frederica Van Stade, one of greatest and most famous mezzo-sopranos in the world, and Joyce DiDonato, one of the top mezzo-sopranos in world and at the pinnacle of the industry?”
During the scene Flicka and Joyce have just said goodbye to the title character Joseph De Rocher for the last time. In my role, I am a guard that prevents them from chasing after him—I literally block them by standing in front of Flicka. Here is where it got really interesting. Opening night was completely different from rehearsal. When Flicka came up to me chasing after Joe, she was blasting emotional energy, with Joyce right behind her. It is really strange for me to say something like this: I was not sure I was going to hold up in front of that emotion. It was tremendous! At that moment, Flicka really was a woman preparing to lose her son by execution. It was extraordinarily powerful.
The last scene is the actual execution. I am the guard who leads Joseph to the table, along with the other guards who strap him down. This is the marching scene about which I have already written so much (see especially my previous post titled “Never let them see you sweat”). This is another scene packed with emotion, stress, and symbolism. If it happens to look easy, then I suppose I’ve done my job—it took a great deal of work to get it together!
When the lights finally come up in the auditorium at the end of the show, I could see the audience. It was still very difficult to spot anyone in particular. It was exhilarating to hear the audience welcome and thank the singers. The audience was very generous.
When Flicka came back on stage for a special bow (this opera is her official “farewell” to the operatic stage), the entire audience jumped out of their seats at the same time, and went wild! A surge of energy and emotion swept the stage as the audience thanked the singers, and all of us in the cast. It was very cool to see how much appreciation the audience has for the talent, emotion and pure hard work that went into making this production happen.
On opening night, I found myself onstage in front of more than 2000 people. By this time I was confident that I knew what I would have to do, and when to do it. I was pretty calm, except for the fact that I was also very excited!
I could not really see the audience most of the time. From the stage, all I can really see is the edge of the orchestra pit, and then a reddish darkness that begins right on the other side of the orchestra. In the midst of the darkness, the windows of the sound booth at the back of the theater reflect the stage, and every now and then I see faint silhouettes of people in the audience.
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Rauli Garcia (far Right) intercepting John Packard as Frederica von Stade (far left) sings her testimony. |
The next time I was on stage was with Ms. Von Stade (affectionately known as “Flicka”) and Joyce DiDonato. What an honor!!
Early on in the rehearsal process, Anthony Freud and I discussed my participation in that scene. He exclaimed, “Rauli, do you know that you alone are on stage with Frederica Van Stade, one of greatest and most famous mezzo-sopranos in the world, and Joyce DiDonato, one of the top mezzo-sopranos in world and at the pinnacle of the industry?”
During the scene Flicka and Joyce have just said goodbye to the title character Joseph De Rocher for the last time. In my role, I am a guard that prevents them from chasing after him—I literally block them by standing in front of Flicka. Here is where it got really interesting. Opening night was completely different from rehearsal. When Flicka came up to me chasing after Joe, she was blasting emotional energy, with Joyce right behind her. It is really strange for me to say something like this: I was not sure I was going to hold up in front of that emotion. It was tremendous! At that moment, Flicka really was a woman preparing to lose her son by execution. It was extraordinarily powerful.
The last scene is the actual execution. I am the guard who leads Joseph to the table, along with the other guards who strap him down. This is the marching scene about which I have already written so much (see especially my previous post titled “Never let them see you sweat”). This is another scene packed with emotion, stress, and symbolism. If it happens to look easy, then I suppose I’ve done my job—it took a great deal of work to get it together!
When the lights finally come up in the auditorium at the end of the show, I could see the audience. It was still very difficult to spot anyone in particular. It was exhilarating to hear the audience welcome and thank the singers. The audience was very generous.
When Flicka came back on stage for a special bow (this opera is her official “farewell” to the operatic stage), the entire audience jumped out of their seats at the same time, and went wild! A surge of energy and emotion swept the stage as the audience thanked the singers, and all of us in the cast. It was very cool to see how much appreciation the audience has for the talent, emotion and pure hard work that went into making this production happen.
Time to Dress Up!
Houston Grand Opera Chief Financial Officer on his experience as a cast member in HGO's Dead Man Walking.
A “full dress rehearsal” means that every one of us artists wears all of the costumes, wigs and makeup that we will wear in the show. Some of my colleagues put on faux tattoos, as well. Making sure the tattoos stick looks like it will be an interesting experience involving some kind of goo and powder. Glad it's not me. The tattoos are for the prisoners in the show. Most of the prisoners are choristers—during the show, see if you can spot the HGO logo that is “tattooed” on one “prisoner’s” neck!
Principal singers have special dressing rooms, used by one or sometimes two singers. Each has its own lighted vanity mirror, comfortable chair, private bathroom, and a piano that they use when warming up their voices. If I close my eyes and walk through the principal singers’ hallway before a rehearsal, I almost feel as though I am in a rainforest, surrounded by exotic operatic birds.
My dressing room is down in the basement among the other chorus and supernumerary dressing rooms. I find their resemblance to athletic team locker rooms to be comforting, though I have never been in a sports locker room that boasts lighted vanity mirrors. There are rows of full-length lockers lined up next to each other, with each person's name at the top. Our costumes hang in them when not in use. Several people have more than one costume and have to change clothes during the show once or twice.
This is my row of lockers, with five of the other supers: Gerald Guidry, Leraldo Anazaldua, Philip Brent, Tedman Brown and Derrick J. Brent II—they appear as guards, prisoners, protestors, deputies and SWAT team members during the show.
Luckily, HGO employs a whole wardrobe team to help make sure that everyone in the show, and the stage crew, are outfitted and ready to go. They take care of making sure the clothes you need to change into make it upstairs if it is a quick change. Yes, in this show, even the stage crew wears costumes: during the show, some of the “guards” in the towers onstage are actually members of the stage crew, ensuring the safety of everyone below.
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The HGO logo is "tattooed" on HGO Chorus member Brad Blunt's neck. |
Principal singers have special dressing rooms, used by one or sometimes two singers. Each has its own lighted vanity mirror, comfortable chair, private bathroom, and a piano that they use when warming up their voices. If I close my eyes and walk through the principal singers’ hallway before a rehearsal, I almost feel as though I am in a rainforest, surrounded by exotic operatic birds.
My dressing room is down in the basement among the other chorus and supernumerary dressing rooms. I find their resemblance to athletic team locker rooms to be comforting, though I have never been in a sports locker room that boasts lighted vanity mirrors. There are rows of full-length lockers lined up next to each other, with each person's name at the top. Our costumes hang in them when not in use. Several people have more than one costume and have to change clothes during the show once or twice.
This is my row of lockers, with five of the other supers: Gerald Guidry, Leraldo Anazaldua, Philip Brent, Tedman Brown and Derrick J. Brent II—they appear as guards, prisoners, protestors, deputies and SWAT team members during the show.
![]() |
My fellow actors in our locker room. |
Luckily, HGO employs a whole wardrobe team to help make sure that everyone in the show, and the stage crew, are outfitted and ready to go. They take care of making sure the clothes you need to change into make it upstairs if it is a quick change. Yes, in this show, even the stage crew wears costumes: during the show, some of the “guards” in the towers onstage are actually members of the stage crew, ensuring the safety of everyone below.
The stage crew is an intricate part of the show from the moment its scenery arrives at the Houston Grand Opera loading dock. They "load in" the scenery, taking it off the beds of eighteen-wheeler trucks and bringing it into the auditorium, assemble the sets, and operate all of the moving parts of the set from every part of the stage. The stage crew for Dead Man Walking includes twelve carpenters, nine electricians, two sound engineers, four house crew, and four "stage property" crew members, who manage all of the items that the singing actors use on stage-chairs, tables, court gavels, firearms, etc . Stage Manger Jessica Mullins coordinates the elaborate dance behind the curtain as crew members bob and weave their way around and through everything around and above the stage, bringing the set to life.
Friday, January 21, 2011
I've heard of "high tech," but what is "piano tech"?
Chief Financial Officer Rauli Garcia goes behind the scenes of this winter’s Dead Man Walking as a supernumerary actor.
We just finished two nights of piano tech, and I'm a little tired. At least I know what piano tech is now. I used to think, what the heck is that?! That is what they call the first nights that we rehearsed on stage in the Brown Theater. It's called a “piano tech,” because there is only a piano instead of an orchestra, accompanying a “technical rehearsal.”
These rehearsals were really complicated. There are more than a hundred people working on this opera. In addition to the principal singers there are thirty-four people from the mens’ and women’s chorus, twenty-four from the children’s chorus, eighteen supernumerary actors, and three other actors. All were present for these rehearsals. Oh, and I forgot to mention the umpteen people out in the auditorium! Get the picture?! Four stage managers coordinate this entire process—I’m glad I didn’t volunteer to do their job.
On stage, almost thirty IATSE crew members made sure everything on, around, and above the stage did what it was supposed to do (this is why they call it a “technical rehearsal”). There are a lot of moving parts. These were two more nights of stopping, adjusting, and restarting. Watching all the people involved go through this process so smoothly reminded me that I was surrounded by professionals at the top of their field.
So back to not-so-cream of the crop, remember my marching scene that I was nervous about? I'm all set now! Kim let me take home the video of the show from San Francisco. I watched that scene until I got it... about fifteen times. I finally got a feel for the music. Also, HGO Studio Alum Beau Gibson, who plays Father Grenville, now helps tremendously by giving me a quick wink when it's my time to step. Whew! Please don't think that I lack rhythm. I can Salsa, Merengue, or Two-Step with anyone!! This, however, was a bit different. I once read about a man who considered high intelligence as having the ability to differentiate in granular detail. When I started this complex march segment, I was asked to listen to the rhythm, step with my left foot, on the third beat, and on the “give” part of the word “forgive.” Huh? Can somebody “give” me a break?
Those instructions, while easy for anyone with musical talent, were beyond my musical intelligence. At this stage in my musical career, asking me that was like asking a kindergartener how many “o’s” are in hor d'oeuvres. They can hear something like an “o” in there somewhere, but figuring it out is guesswork. Fifteen rehearsals worth of exposure to the music later, and I finally have the ability to hear my mark.
Our next rehearsal is a full run through in costume on the main stage! And I have a costume change …
Image credit: www.slipperybrick.com
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Rauli Garcia at right, with Philip Cutlip (center) and HGO Archivist Brian Mitchell at left |
No, this is not "piano tech." But HGO does have its own mobile app. |
These rehearsals were really complicated. There are more than a hundred people working on this opera. In addition to the principal singers there are thirty-four people from the mens’ and women’s chorus, twenty-four from the children’s chorus, eighteen supernumerary actors, and three other actors. All were present for these rehearsals. Oh, and I forgot to mention the umpteen people out in the auditorium! Get the picture?! Four stage managers coordinate this entire process—I’m glad I didn’t volunteer to do their job.
On stage, almost thirty IATSE crew members made sure everything on, around, and above the stage did what it was supposed to do (this is why they call it a “technical rehearsal”). There are a lot of moving parts. These were two more nights of stopping, adjusting, and restarting. Watching all the people involved go through this process so smoothly reminded me that I was surrounded by professionals at the top of their field.
So back to not-so-cream of the crop, remember my marching scene that I was nervous about? I'm all set now! Kim let me take home the video of the show from San Francisco. I watched that scene until I got it... about fifteen times. I finally got a feel for the music. Also, HGO Studio Alum Beau Gibson, who plays Father Grenville, now helps tremendously by giving me a quick wink when it's my time to step. Whew! Please don't think that I lack rhythm. I can Salsa, Merengue, or Two-Step with anyone!! This, however, was a bit different. I once read about a man who considered high intelligence as having the ability to differentiate in granular detail. When I started this complex march segment, I was asked to listen to the rhythm, step with my left foot, on the third beat, and on the “give” part of the word “forgive.” Huh? Can somebody “give” me a break?
Those instructions, while easy for anyone with musical talent, were beyond my musical intelligence. At this stage in my musical career, asking me that was like asking a kindergartener how many “o’s” are in hor d'oeuvres. They can hear something like an “o” in there somewhere, but figuring it out is guesswork. Fifteen rehearsals worth of exposure to the music later, and I finally have the ability to hear my mark.
Our next rehearsal is a full run through in costume on the main stage! And I have a costume change …
Image credit: www.slipperybrick.com
Monday, January 17, 2011
Never let them see you sweat
Houston Grand Opera Chief Financial Officer Rauli Garcia gets a taste of stage life as an actor in Dead Man Walking
I arrived a little early to a new kind of chaos. Some new cast members had arrived … I asked a super who they were: “the superstars, man,” he said. The principal singers were joining us. It was really cool to see that they looked like anyone else while off the stage. I’m not sure if I expected anything different, they were just hanging out. I also learned that the other supers who I thought were actors were just normal people like me. They work full-time jobs, and then come to Houston Grand Opera in the evening. They do it because they love opera or the stage life, and this is a good way to be involved.
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Artists arrive for the biggest rehearsal yet. |
I went to the far side of the room to watch as people began to file in. The men’s chorus, children’s chorus, supers, musicians, singers, stage mangers, and the production team arrived in droves. I had never seen so many people in that space before.
We began to go through the first act. It was amazing to hear it so closely. It was loud, in a good way. The voices of the principal singers were magnificent. I have heard Joyce DiDonato on stage, but hearing her up-close was much more intense. This is an emotional opera to begin with, and the singers look like they are really feeling the emotions as they rehearse.
Later, we went through the scene that we had practiced with the entire group. The one with the synchronized steps (“Left, right, left, right …”). It became even more complicated when we added the chorus and singers. The music was so loud that I couldn’t hear the cue to begin my march. I was late, which made the other supers late, which made me nervous. We continued through much of the act.
At the next rehearsal, the supers were called with just the principal singers and the men’s chorus. We went through several scenes, and in my mind, I focused on the scene I have been concerned about: the marching scene. We went through it several times. Each time, someone was off. I felt like usually it was me, and I was missing the cue. I was starting to sweat! This time there were more singers, and more people marching, and yes, more complexity. I offered to step out of that scene, so far, I’m still there.
Isn’t there a way for me to put this into a spreadsheet?!? That would solve everything.
A note about the patience I see in the rehearsal room. Maestro Patrick Summers, HGO Music Director and the conductor of Dead Man Walking and Leonard Foglia, the show’s director, show boundless patience while putting the opera together. The process is very detailed. There are many pauses in the rehearsal process. Stage Management yells, “Hold Please!” and everyone stops. Then Patrick or Lenny ask for small changes to be made, we back up a few moments, and start over again. It happens over and over as they tweak and adjust the production into alignment with their vision.
A note about the patience I see in the rehearsal room. Maestro Patrick Summers, HGO Music Director and the conductor of Dead Man Walking and Leonard Foglia, the show’s director, show boundless patience while putting the opera together. The process is very detailed. There are many pauses in the rehearsal process. Stage Management yells, “Hold Please!” and everyone stops. Then Patrick or Lenny ask for small changes to be made, we back up a few moments, and start over again. It happens over and over as they tweak and adjust the production into alignment with their vision.
I, for my part, will keep my head down and continue do what I’m told.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Marching to the beat of the prison
On the night of our third rehearsal, a snowstorm raged in the Northeast. A principal singer was stuck in an airport thousands of miles away from Houston, and rehearsal was canceled. This was yet another first for me. What could have been just another normal evening at home turned into a private tutoring session with Dead Man Walking Assistant Director Kim Prescott. When it comes to movement, I need all the help I can get, and in this case I had missed two early rehearsals. How was I to catch up with my colleagues?
Kim walked me through my toughest scene, in which the guards escort the opera’s title character, prisoner Joseph De Rocher, to the execution table. All of us must march in lockstep with the beat of the music, in a very specific series of steps. Thank goodness for Kim—walking through it with her, I did just fine. What would happen, though, when I was on my own again?
That night I went back down to the basement for yet another fitting in the HGO Costume Shop. Again, Norma Morales and Myrna Vallejo made me feel at home, and the session flew by. They snapped photos of my two “new looks”:
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Prison Guard Look, complete with official badge and real keys. |
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Deputy Look, with an even more official badge. Rauli smiles sincerely at his bona-fide new identity, and gets character cred with his "deputy stance." |
We all rehearse in a huge, three-story room in the Wortham Theater, without the actual set, since it is being put together onstage while we learn our parts. Instead, we work in a labyrinth of colored tape—what seems like miles of it—laid out across the floor. Each configuration of tape represents a different part of the set, or a scene or an act, and is labeled with some kind of secret code. It does take me several minutes to figure out that the rectangle with the lines going through it represent steps we will be walking up on stage. Good to Know!! How am I going to visualize the through these layers, upon layers of tape??
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