Today I celebrate -and in the most special way- what in Italy we call "onomastico", my name's day, and those who have read my book must be by now very well acquainted with the great importance of a character's name in Opera
(whether they have one, or don't, or keep it secret for someone else to guess).
Just yesterday, curiously, I was contacted by an Italian professor at the Köln Conservatory, who didn't miss the chance to ironise on her German destiny,
being her given name... Germana!
I deeply appreciated the email:
not only she pointed out how helpful Cantare Italiano was for her, along with the ARKive and video material I have been posting throughout the past few years
(a quick reminder that subscribing to the Salvadanaio plan is the easiest way
to both support and access such material),
but she displayed the greatest level of awareness and professionalism asking for my supervision on her Sprachtreinerin job with singers.
And raising such awareness on the vocal-musical-theatrical entanglements of what goes under the name of Italian diction is precisely my mission:
for diction -holistically meant- is at the origin of any music writing
and it is in my opinion the only keystone that will keep Opera together in the next centuries.
When this concept I am trying to pass worldwide will become obvious and of public domain,
the fact that it may have ever been neglected, or kept as a luxury accessory at the peripheries of an operatic production, instead of as the infrastructure at its core,
will finally sound like the barbarity it is.
I'll be patient, it's in my fate: I was named Sara after the wife of Abraham, who gave birth at 90 years old and laughed at the three angels who announced her pregnancy.
For, just like her, today I am fulfilling a long awaited fate of mine.
So let me just quickly update my bio, below.