Typical Day
Bella Donna opens her eyes a smidge. The green neon hue of the bedside clock reads 7:58AM. Trying not to pout about those last two minutes, she sits up and turns off the apparently unnecessary alarm. Greeting the morning with a loud stretch-and-yawn, she gets up and gets started. Actually, that yawn was the start, as she spends the next half hour opening up her two most important instruments: her body and her voice.
As she rolls on the floor humming like a vacuum, Bella ponders how this might look to a stranger. She doesn't care, of course; she's way past being embarrassed. One of the perks of being an artist is you have a very high level of tolerance for humiliation.
After a healthy breakfast of berries and oatmeal (no yogurt, as dairy will make her all phlegmy), she checks her schedule online to make sure she's not running behind. Her call time today is 11:30AM, so she's got a couple hours to prepare before she hops on the subway uptown.
From 9:00AM until she heads out the door, she does her vocal warm-ups. From her sinuses to her throat and all the way down to her diaphragm, she trills and frills and speaks in tongues, oiling up for the long day ahead. By 11:10AM she's out the door, throwing a light jacket on to protect her from the springtime breeze.
At 11:28AM Bella drops her bag on her own small real estate on the shared table in front of the vanity mirror. She hugs Gina and Serena good morning, and the three engage in idle small talk about Gina having to spend money on a taxi because she woke up late (again). One more strike and she's out of the company, so Bella promises to call her tomorrow morning―Gina's one of her favorites.
After voice call, the performers all break for individual rehearsal at 12:30PM. Bella takes her time with a cadenza in her second aria. It isn't as strong as she'd hoped by this point, and a talent scout friend-of-a-friend is in town from London. She's not nervous, exactly, but there is definitely a cocooned butterfly awaiting its debut in her stomach at the moment. She practices until she feels better about it, then she gives her voice a rest and meets the girls for lunch at 1:30PM.
Back in the opera house at 2:30PM, Bella lingers in the dressing room on her own for a bit. She likes to take private moments whenever she can, mostly for meditative purposes (but also because it helps the digestion). From the monitors in the corner she can hear the action on stage. Fredrich is being driven hard by the director, and for good reason―in the first act last night, he tripped over a box on stage and nearly sent the lead flying into the front row.
Around 3:00PM, Bella heads on to stage. It's her turn for one-on-one time with the director. His French-accented English seems abrupt and almost mean, but Bella knows he plays favorites, and she's totally one of them.
After dinner (5:00PM to 6:00PM) it's back on stage for a final pre-show voice call. Everyone works together to raise pitch, lower volume, and generally move sound around the space. Finally, the cast huddles together for a moment of silent reflection and respect of the space. Then, at 6:30PM, pandemonium ensues as the rush to put on costumes, make-up, and wigs begins.
The house opens at 7:30PM and the crowd of music appreciators make their way to their assigned seats. Tonight's show is almost sold out. Bucking tradition and superstition, Bella takes a peek out of the curtain and surveys the room. After a moment or two, she notices a balding, unmistakably British gentleman making his way to a seat towards the front.
Suddenly the cocoon that's been laying dormant in her stomach bursts into a beautiful and incredibly nervous pair of butterflies. Walking carefully backstage on her performance shoes, Bella hits those breathing exercises and reminds herself: this is what you do.
8:05PM. The curtain rises. Showtime.
The curtain falls at 10:35PM, and the murmur of the crowd lingers for a while after the show. The buzz in Bella's stomach tells her she nailed her notes, and the feedback from the dressing room is incredibly sweet (not to mention totally on point).
Arriving back at home at 11:15PM, Bella throws her stuff to the side and heads to the kitchen. A little tea before bed will help ease her mind and soothe her throat. Throwing on her PJs, she checks her e-mail as she sips on her chamomile. There's a new message, from that friend-of-a-friend talent scout from London. "Great show tonight! Let's chat when you have moment. Cheers! Reginald".
The butterflies are back. And this time, Bella can hear them singing.