Greetings all.

Eight shows this last week, includes Woodmere Elementary, Jackson Middle School, Portland Jewish Academy, Portland Center for the Performing Arts, the double bill at Hotel Oregon in McMinnville, 3 shows on our home turf at the Hampton Opera Center, and all the while busily preparing ourselves for the week ahead.

Somehow, I've acclimated to the pace. A typical day might be to rise before dawn, drive in good humor a good distance, splash the set in place as the space allows, don our costumes and watch each other make our entrances with the same vibrance found in those near forgotten days of dress rehearsal, only to exit, reload the truck as quickly and gracefully as we arrived, to do it all yet again often the same day for yet another room full of unsuspecting and subsequently delighted children and children at heart. It remains hard work, but it isn't hard to do, if you know what I mean. We all know the drill now, Elixer is solid and flexible. We are supported by each others professionalism and dedication to the discipline, and we are fueled with the gratitude of our audiences. It is an honor to be a part of.

Erik Hundtoft

First of all, I love my job…I love my job….I love my job.  I really do.  But 6:30 am is too early to be driving to a gig.  I keep asking myself over and over, “Who the [blazes] booked this thing???!”  And then being forced to answer, “Oh.  I did.”  

Portland Opera To Go is in full swing and we have been experiencing terrific success, both in schools and in our various McMenamins venues.  I couldn’t be more pleased or proud of the magnificent and heroic work ethic and professionalism exhibited by my cast, and their ability to pull a brilliant performance out even when the evening performance is 12 hours after our initial call.  We did that this week.  I am telling you—we are Opera Peace Corps, the toughest job you will ever love.

But, of course, even the toughest job has its perks.  For instance, watching Stacey Murdock as Dr. Dulcamara turn on the bubble machine in his cart and watching the kid sitting next to me gasp and bounce, exclaiming, delighted, “Now, THAT’S cool.”  Or having an octogenarian taking the usual place of a kindergartner delivering a “telegram” in the show, and having him be as full of joy as a five-year-old to help us out, even as he gave me a knowing wink.  Or getting to actually say, “Yeah, we are playing The Crystal tonight.”  Or seeing our pianist, David, sitting on an amp at the keyboard on the sidewalk at 14th and Burnside in the middle of the night as we loaded out of the Crystal Ballroom.