Getting out of your own way- yeah or nay?

I had another "Voices of Women" concert this past Thursday night. I sing with 3 talented diverse women in a show we wrote called "We'd Be Surprisingly Good For You." I am particularly proud of it because it tells one distinct story- women in Manhattan looking for love and actually finding it. And, we do this by taking Musical Theatre/American Song Book songs from various composers and their time periods to tell this story. This was the 2nd performance.

We started this evening, however, with a "warm-up" of our favorite songs. The other women mostly sang Standards and American Musical Theatre. I sang Poulenc: a French composer of the early 20th century- prolific during the wars and thereafter. His songs come from the traditional French melodies style- using mostly well known poetry of the time, some of the dada/surrealist period, some of the romantic period, with contemporary tonal structures. Let me tell you--- I was MUCH more comfortable singing these songs.

Which leads me to ask...why? The show is my native language. I helped create it so there is a personal connection. I am in a happy coupledom, so maybe my desire to meet men has become flaccid (yes, using that term on purpose)? Or, maybe I just felt that I was "performing" and not "telling a story?"

When I sing in a foreign language it is easy to hide away myself and get out of my own way to tell the story. Sometimes this is a detriment, as the real Courtenay sits back and watches, without a heightened emotional drive to express the song truthfully (says my old acting coach). But, otherwise, telling someone else's story is so much more interesting to me then telling my own (for once!). And, of course, using my own experiences to add color to that person's story so it comes from a true place. But, for whatever strange reason, when I sing in English, I feel like I am being false. Isn't that odd? Maybe it is too much Courtenay visiting a strange land and not enough of the silent watcher from behind letting the character make choices? Or maybe speaking English makes me feel emotionally naked, vulnerable and uncomfortable so I "perform" to mask this discomfort? I simply do not know.

Whatever the answer may be, I am happy to get back into Violetta again---immersing myself in the colors of Verdi. Perhaps, the same way Violetta immersed herself in Paris? Whether either of us are being true to ourselves and our story, I shall soon find out!