My grandmother, the princess Mescherskaya, after the revolution of 1917 became an opera singer. I never opened my mouth for a single note until
2018, when I somehow found myself at the Rockland Congregational Church choir. There was Poul Whiton, a voice teacher, there and he started to teach me. On these photos, taken with my broken iPhone, I sing a sad Irish song about Molly Malone. I couldn’t hold laughter at the words “cockles and muscles”. I like Irish black humor.
My singing voice happened to be very high soprano, so after Caro Mio Ben we learned Nightingale (Solovey) by Alabiev, Joan Sutherland’s version.
With a paperwork issue, I found myself in New England instead of “regular” England. Well, another game started. Before things calm down, I stayed in the Rockland Congregational Church and it was one of the best ever times. I got up with nautical twilight and sang loud before the custodian, Rick, comes and turns the lights on. It’s time for me to drive to YMCA for a swim.