Cabaret, Truth on Stage and My Little Sister

Although I thoroughly enjoy classical music and fully intend to continue performing in that genre, when I was writing the monologue for my cabaret All I Wanted, I discovered something that my engagements as a classical singer never really allowed for; I was able to put some voice to why specific pieces of music meant something to me. Singers in the world of classical music—where I began my career—typically do not have the opportunity to explain why it is they sing what they sing. In opera, hopefully it's self-evident. In concert repertoire, I suppose that the music is meant to speak for itself. And in liturgical music, well, they already have a script and generally aren't big on ad-libbing. That isn't to say that the volumes of music performed in a cabaret style or setting cannot stand on their own, or that classical music wouldn't be suited to or elevated by a brief prelude with the performer providing the audience some topical or even personal insight into the selection being sung. Rather, it just seems that things have always been done this way and although crossover musicians are evolving the forms, I don't expect classical soloists with the San Francisco Symphony to start engaging the audience with transition patter any time soon. And that's just fine with me.

Cabaret provides the opportunity for an artist to share his or her voice beyond what may be captured in the music itself. It's funny how one’s personal truth on stage can be so overwhelming, particularly considering the very public setting. I was surprised (and a little freaked out) that at a couple of moments in my monologue I was a little choked up over what I was saying to introduce the next piece in my set. [And no, I wasn't tearing up over the beauty of my own performance :) ] I think that my emotions may have been hovering a little closer to the surface than I had expected. I don't think that anyone in the audience really caught on. While honesty on stage can be all-at-once beautiful, jarring and sadly, rare, these people didn't pay hard earned dollars to see my own personal version of an Academy Awards acceptance speech meltdown. So I reigned it in.

One of the things that I spoke about during the performance is a long held and strong belief that above all else, people are most important to me. I suppose that kind of sounds like a 'well-duh' but I don't think that it is. Everyone has a set of priorities, and not everyone has people at the top of that list. I suppose that's okay; it's just not me. I said in the show that of all the things I had accomplished in my life, and of all those things that I still hoped to do, little-to-none has had or will have the impact of the people that I've met, the friendships that I've made and the relationships that I've shared and that's the truth.

In writing my monologue/transition patter, I needed to compose full stories in order to really get to the heart of what I wanted to say before editing the words back to something manageable for the stage. Consequently, there were many things that I would have liked to include, but omitted to suit the format. Speaking about the impact of people in my life, there are many places that I might have and could have gone had I continued in that vein.

One thought that struck me last night for some odd reason was how important my little sister has become in my life as our relationship has grown over the past 5 years.

The youngest of four children by nine years and the daughter of my mother's third husband, in many ways Nikki might seem the furthest away from me of our siblings. I am the oldest and only child from my mother’s first marriage and it would be a gross understatement to say that I had difficulties with Nikki’s father growing up.

Despite the gap in age and the fact that I hadn’t seen Nikki in nearly 8 years when we reconnected 5 years ago, I am closer to her than anyone else in my family and most anyone else at all. She and I describe each other as a male (or female) counterpart of ourselves (though I think that she’s a bit spunkier than I am and I love that about her.) Nikki is someone who people are drawn to; even complete strangers. She—like her big brother—has people at the top of her list. Impossible not to like, everyone to whom I have introduced her has fallen in love with her old soul. She is intelligent, creative, friendly, has an easy smile,

a wonderful laugh





and a great sense of humor.

Scrappy and a spitfire,

she confidently makes her way in Los Angeles and maintains balance with moments of a quiet and independent elegance that strike nearly everyone who knows her.






I love that we talk almost every day and I'm so proud of the life that she is creating for herself in Los Angeles, but sometimes wish she lived a bit closer.