I was watching American Idol auditions and one girl who got my attention was this young mother who was talking about being raised by parents who always tried to instill in her the rules on what’s right and what’s wrong; she said she ended up seeing the wisdom in their words, or something of that sort, that instead of rebelling, well she did the opposite of doing the opposite of what she’s been taught. The judges let her through, noting her goody-goody ways and promising to "bring her to the dark side."
Well I hope she goes far enough for me to see if she’ll buckle under pressure.
Okay, I know said I don’t care who wins anymore; on the men’s side at least.
I’m not as big a Henin fan as I am a Federer fan, but my current favorites on the ladies side are ranked as Henin > Sharapova > Ivanovic (this changes pretty much according to season). Henin first, because she’s so gritty and her backhand is phenomenal. And partly because she’s not as pretty and tall as the other two, I want her to be no. 1 forever.
So Maria may have tromped both Justine and Ana on her way to claiming her third Major title, but as I was watching the highlights of the final, I cannot help but be convinced that Maria Sharapova deserves her win. And all her other accomplishments off-court, too. So congrats Maria. Despite your dad’s obnoxious ways, you’re proving to be a great girl anyhow.
I was following the scores online and have been almost biting my nails throughout. I don’t think I would have survived actually watching it on TV. Gah, that may be an exaggeration, but RFed, I’ll still be watching you come French Open. Maybe losing in the other Grand Slams is what you need to finally clinch that one. But a straight sets bow out? Ok, it wasn’t your day. You may flip your hair now and rest those skinny arms (I’m such a bad fan!)
(Photo from official site)
Just read the news write-ups. I don’t care who wins anymore.
What people at Idinamenzel.com are doing with promoting her new album is freaking awesome. The lyric videos of new tracks are cool. Here in the Philippines, the name Idina Menzel is probably known only mostly to fans of musical theater, so I’m saying, again, go back to Disney’s Enchanted and take a good look at Robert’s girlfriend because that girl may not have sung in that movie (which ironically is filled with musical numbers), but she’s won the Tony Award for originating the role of Elphaba in the hit musical Wicked.
Her venture into pop territory isn’t really a first. And although I’d always prefer her theater voice, having heard some of the songs she wrote in the past, I’m giving this album a high mark in my anticipation list. Here’s the title track, I Stand.
Incidentally, Idina will star with Josh Groban in the Chess musical UK concert in May. It’ll be fun to hear that rock voice sing Elaine Paige’s I Know Him So Well.
After I watched Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, I went back to the New York Times review of the film, which is what really spurred me to watch it. I am linking it, again, because now I can say that it is most accurate in its description. Right about now, I don't want to sleep yet because I fear I might have nightmares. The movie is gorgeous visually, albeit twisted. Stunning might be a more apt and literal description, though. I admire the vision of Tim Burton, the edgy portrayal of Johnny Depp, and the music of Stephen Sondheim. I was kind of relieved to know that the backbone story wasn't really Sondheim's. He did write the music and lyrics but the story "was originally serialized in Britain in the 1840s, and was the basis of a play written by Christopher Bond and of Hugh Wheeler’s book for the stage musical."
This says it all:
It is cruel in its effects and radical in its misanthropy, expressing a breathtakingly, rigorously pessimistic view of human nature. It is also something close to a masterpiece, a work of extreme — I am tempted to say evil — genius.
- A.O. Scott (December 21, 2007)
If you're the least bit curious, watch the trailer, read the review, and go watch the film. I agree that there's so much good stuff here you'll miss if you'll get turned off by the brutal premise. I came for the music, for one, and got to hear some of the most hauntingly beautiful pieces there are. I cannot say for sure how you'll react to it, but as the reviewer warned, "It's not Hairspray." That's why I'm going to watch Hairspray on DVD, right about now.
One major drawback of not talking a lot, I find, is that it makes you more prone to stammering. Could be just me. But while listening to myself talk one day, I decided that I need to do some exercises on diction and enunciation. And volume, too.
I found this short but informative piece on voice techniques. It comes with a tool using tongue twisters. Below are some samples. Have a blast!
The seething sea ceaseth and thus the seething sea sufficeth us.
-Old Farmer's Almanac 1994
My Friday was an unraveling day of herculean proportions. Work, friends, work, and all that crazy stuff. I went home with my mind all jumbled with too much to process. My friends and I didn't even get to go out (which generally means grab some coffee and chat till we drop), which I would guess such situations usually call for.
Instead, I'm online again, and a girl has to vent out so I'm looking to my mp3 archive for comfort and sharing it here. Because it's true - "every now and then, every girl needs a good friend and a glass of wine."
I've been spending a lot more time online than I ever cared to since I started this blog. If someone will ask me why, when I'm not even getting money from writing about stuff that probably nobody else cares about, the only answer I can give is that it makes my life, if not my pocket, richer. We hear people talk about works of passion. If you have found where yours lies, then you understand what I am saying.
Passion gives geniuses' works heart. I've written about this musical called The Last Five Years. I must admit I didn't quite get it the first time I listened to the entire piece, but when I really listened, I was completely blown away by the brilliance of its creator, Jason Robert Brown. This is one work so personal, so filled with emotions you feel you can almost touch them. Go on, research the guy if you like music and the theater.
One of his earlier works, written when he was but 25 years old, is a musical revue [a patchwork of songs often based on a theme, but without a strong story line: Source] called Songs for a New World. One particular song that I liked is Stars and the Moon (lyrics). It's about this girl who passed up opportunities to be with men who offer her stars and the moon because she was aiming for more earthbound treasures. It was not until she finally got what she thought she dreamed of that it dawned on her that, sometimes, we look too far and spread ourselves too thin to chase things which in the end would prove meaningless.
Here's a video of a performance by Audra McDonald, a four-time Tony Award winner, featuring JRB himself on the piano.
When I was college student, going home during the weekends usually means riding "SRO" buses. Back then I was so used to it that finally having a place to sit after a few minutes, or even an hour or so, of standing isn't such a big deal. And it's not a Cubao to Ayala kind of trip. It's actually Laguna to Batangas.
Last Sunday, I was waiting for a ride from Laguna, going back to Manila, and was so disappointed that the second bus to arrive is also full. The conductor said that I'll never get an unfilled bus that time of day, when everyone's travelling back to the city. Knowing that might be true, I braved the odds and stood in the middle of the bus, hoping that some seats would soon be available. It turned out that I have to wait for more than an hour before I finally got to rest my legs. I was so annoyed because at first, there were only about five of us standing, but before long the entire space in the middle was filled. Even so, the driver will stop at every sight of a passenger and the conductor would yell, "Paki-usod lang po sa dulo para magkasya tayo lahat!" [Please move toward the back so everyone will get to ride]. At that point, I was thinking how unfair would it be if someone who has just gotten in the bus will get to sit before me just because I was forced to move to an area where no one is going to alight anytime soon. As I watch one, two, then three people take seats, I silently swore and regretted the system of transportation in this country. The only thing that appeased me is seeing familiar places and establishments when we reached Los Baños, a place that I've come to love like my own hometown.
And so it was that I finally was able to take a seat when we reached Calamba, just before the South Luzon expressway. It probably wouldn't be such a bad experience if I wasn't in heels and wearing a skirt.
To be, or not to be, — that is the question: —
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? — To die, to sleep, —
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; —
To sleep, perchance to dream: — ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death, —
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, — puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know naught of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Hamlet, Act III, scene i
[Edited] This one came from rewatching Ethan Hawke's Hamlet. These lines say a lot about the things that have lately been on my mind, so I'm sharing.
