Posted on by Vicki Holmsten · 5 Comments

Still Playing

I signed myself up for violin lessons in fifth grade when they offered me the opportunity to escape class for an hour or two a week to meet Mr. Randal, the string teacher, in the school library. It’s not that I didn’t love Mrs. Barber, my fifth grade teacher. I was attracted to the privilege of being one of the chosen to leave class every week.

Those early music lessons stayed with me, in spite of the horrible scraping and squeaking noises that made the family dog howl when I practiced at home.

I stayed with orchestra class through both junior high and high school and those other kids became my homies. This, of course, placed me in the dreaded category of Nerd (capital N intentional). Turned out that I was comfortable with that role, and I celebrate it now.

In spite of all predictions that I would quit playing, I’m still at it. There have been stoppages for various life events, but I always managed to find a way to get back to the music. Our move to Santa Fe four years ago allowed me to find the local community orchestra and a place to play with other adults who also never quit playing. We come from a variety of professional backgrounds that often didn’t involve music–teachers, lawyers, doctors, engineers, scientists, social workers and more. The first rehearsals feel a bit bumpy, but by the time we get to concert date, the magic happens. We are making music together.

Next week, we begin rehearsing for our October concert. Mendelssohn Symphony #5, Reformation. Grieg Holberg Suites. Beethoven Piano Concerto #1. On Thursday nights, my violin, the music stand, and the black folder of music get stowed in the back of the car. I’ll be in the best seat in the house, in the middle of the music in the second violin section. It is a privilege for me to still be playing this music with other people who love it as much as I do.

Posted on by Vicki Holmsten

Opera Withdrawal 2026

The box office is closed. No more backstage tours. No more performances this summer in Santa Fe. All is quiet in the flower boxes and the seats in the theater. Most of those who make it happen have left, going on to their plans for what’s next in their lives.

My favorite volunteer job is working as a docent during June, July, and August. We tour guests around the theater grounds during the early morning summer hours before the musicians, techies, and other production people are at work. During that hour midsummer the place is waking up and starting to hum as the 600+ people it takes to make opera happen here are drifting in and taking their places.

The back deck, behind the stage has a magnificent view of the Jemez Mountains and the lands of the Tewa ancestors. where their descendants now live in neighboring Pueblos. This is where the magic happens–the costume shop, the scenery, props, and paint shops, the stage. It takes a lot of talented people to put it all together in a remarkably short space of time.

Five operas every summer. A different opera every night. In August, if you pick the right week, you can see five operas in five nights. I admire the stamina of anyone who can do that. For me, Opera Hangover is a real thing. I can not handle more than two nights in a row.

And Opera Withdrawal is a real thing for me this first week in September. I’m left with my memories of sitting in the theater, watching the sky, and listening to Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Handel, Puccini, and Picker. I can’t think of a better way to spend a summer.

Posted on by Vicki Holmsten

Don Giovanni and Me

Don Giovanni captured my heart when I first saw the opera performed at Santa Fe in 1992. Soon thereafter, I started to dream the characters. I dreamed that Don Giovanni, Donna Anna, Donna Elvira, and the Commendatore haunted a house I lived in. But the house in the dream was no house I had ever lived in or even visited.

Mozart’s characters floated through the hallways and into the rooms, singing to me and to each other. Bright colors, palm trees, tropical flowers, and music filled that house. I dreamed my way through it more than once.

This opera was calling to me and I set out to find it. I bought a recording, the libretto, even the orchestral score. I listened to it over and over. I was learning Italian. I studied everything I could find to read about this opera. I saw it four more times at the Santa Fe Opera, every time it’s been performed since my first encounter in 1992—1996, 2004, 2009, 2016. Five times. This summer of 2024 will be my sixth live performance at my beloved Santa Fe Opera.

Somewhere in all those years and performances, Don Giovanni wedged himself into a story that was forming in my head. The story broke out in random notebook pages and insisted I begin to put it together. That finally happened in a National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) challenge in November of 2013.

That first NaNoWriMo 50,000 word draft was a mess, but the core of the story was there and it wasn’t going to let me go. Multiple drafts, good workshop partners, two professional edits later it is now a 76,000 word novel trying to find a home. Altitude Adjustment. Don Giovanni is in there, peeking out from behind the curtains. I hope you’ll be able to read it before too long. And by all means, look for Don Giovanni on the stage. See if you aren’t at least a little bit haunted, too.