Being now older than dirt, I can look back at the circuitous road leading to the scholarly life I now enjoy and either shake my head or laugh. After a stint in a Houston high school where I did not do well in science (my mother's preference), I became a shy undergraduate majoring in piano performance, but my Godzilla-sized Stage Fright That Ate Tokyo impelled the recognition early on that I would need to find another way to remain in music.
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Thirty-five years ago four singers and I came together to present concerts under the banner of The Songmakers' Almanac. Makers of songs were taken to be composers and their poets, and further down the production line, singers and their pianists.
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I spent the first 35 years of my life practicing – of course I found time for wine and food and traveling, but there was certainly no time for any significant exercise. I had brief flings with ill-fated aerobics and dance classes in my Undergrad and Grad degrees, but they always ended up in some sort of disaster. I got through the countless hours of practicing during my DMA in Collaborative Piano without any real exercise, and sore and fairly tight, started a year in the training program at Minnesota Opera.
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