Nathan Granner

Pardon me while I spend the next month deep in my memories, prepping to return to one of my signature roles: Rodolfo in La Boheme.

This clip is from a production that holds a really special place in my heart. Mimì was the incredible Katharine Gunnink, and it was an utter joy to tell this iconic story together.

Rodolfo always gets under my skin. He's young and impractical and wildly in love and absolutely heartbroken, sometimes all within the same phrase. Stepping back into that headspace both vocal preparation and emotional architecture.

I cannot wait to step back into the shoes and soul of Rodolfo for Chicago Festival of Opera's La Bohème in just a few short weeks!

Singing 'Home' from The Wiz last month with Muse/IQUE reminded me deeply of another adventure that was about career, but sparked a bigger understanding about life.

This "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" was supposed to be just a video audition for Charlottesville Opera, no big deal. But there I was, singing La Boheme with Opera San Luis Obispo. I started learning the song on my guitar, and one day found myself outside. That feeling when you step outside and the sky is so wide and so blue it almost doesn't seem real? Well it was real. And suddenly it dawned on me that I should make the audition vid right there. In the big wide open.

I grew up under that sky. I know that feeling in my body. It felt less like a coincidence and more like the music was coming alive.

I grabbed a neck scarf, my guitar and set off to record. The wind made the setup insane, but it brought back a memory of me hiking from Kansas to Oberlin College, 900+ miles away... facing massive tornados, just to audition.

I had so much fun putting this little video together. Let me just say... that's kind of the point. Way-Wayyyy cooler to sing to the cows in the rolling landscape used to film old Westerns, than to sing along to a recording while facing a taupe wall!

And I got the part!

Read about what this Back to Oz memory stirred up: https://bit.ly/YouAreHome_Substack

Flashback to making actual magic on stage with Long Beach Opera in *The Consul.*

Nika Magadoff is one of those roles that sits in a completely different universe from where my career has taken me. My path as a singer has pulled me toward heroic romantic leads, the big sweeping emotional arcs, the guys carrying the dramatic weight of the whole show on their backs. And I love that. It's genuinely my home.

But there's something freeing about inhabiting a character like Nika. He's chipper, a little eerie, a genuine humbug who thinks his tricks and his artistry are enough to buy him a passport out of a desperate situation. Menotti wrote this patter song with such a strange, light energy, and performing it means leaning into something almost comedic while the world of the opera around you is falling apart. The contrast is everything.

I do sometimes miss the experience of disappearing into a character so far from my own life. The magician who believes in himself so completely that he thinks a card trick can move a bureaucrat. There's something oddly relatable in that, honestly.

Act 2 is the easiest act for Rodolfo.

Which is exactly why you have to stay sharp.

There's no big aria to anchor you. No dramatic pivot. Just Cafe Momus, a crowd of children, Musetta causing her usual chaos, and you, the guy in love, watching it all happen. Your job here is presence, not performance. Simplicity is a skill.

But buried in all that noise is a line most audiences barely catch.

"Sappi per tuo governo che non darei perdono in sempiterno."

Suddenly the poet is gone. What speaks in his place is something older, harder. A warning, almost. Rodolfo sees Musetta acting out, defends his friend, and in doing so reveals something true about himself. The love is real. The flame is hot. But there are limits. And he knows it, even now.

That one line tells you everything about what's coming in Acts 3 and 4.

Act 2 is where you get to just be in love. Don't overthink it. But don't stop counting either.

Read more on Substack: https://bit.ly/SurvivingRodolfoPart1

Don't let the gatekeepers tell you, maybe you'll have a career... when you're already in your career.

Nobody "becomes" an artist.

They just start.

Jacob Collier was obsessed with sound and posted constantly. Taylor Swift wrote songs. Time for Three, Emi Wins, dancers, actors, instrumentalists... they all started because something pulled them toward it.

Not because they had a plan, but because they couldn't not do it.

What nobody talks about in the beginning? After the obsession comes the business. Contracts, taxes, negotiating your worth, figuring out how to actually get paid for the thing you love.

Not glamorous. Not fun. But that's how you know it's working.

You don't need to have it all figured out. You just need to start with what fascinates you, and grow into everything else.

(For the record, it takes about $400 a year to officially be a small business owner. Less than a gym membership, and you'll actually use it!)

to something opera singers almost never get to do... pick their own keys. 🎹

This was me prepping for "Back to Oz" with Muse/ique in LA, working through the song list and figuring out what actually fits my voice. First up: "It's Not Easy Being Green." (Yes, the Kermit one. Yes, it slaps.)

Oh, and I was doing all of this with a fractured pinky. Because the show must go on, obviously.

What a ride that whole process was.