Season 24-25: Have Suitcase, Will Sing
- KiwiTenor
- Jul 2
- 5 min read
Updated: Jul 5
Cluj-Napoca, Romania | July 2025
I'm writing this post from a café tucked into a quiet corner of Cluj-Napoca, Romania. It’s my last week of the opera season, and I’m here for some coachings with a dear friend and coach of mine from New York. For those unfamiliar with the operatic calendar in Europe: the ‘season’ typically runs from September to the end of June, making space over summer for a glorious and slightly mad tradition—opera festivals.
This time of year always calls for a little reflection—somewhere between the final curtain call and the moment we all collectively fling ourselves towards a sun-drenched terrace with a spritz in hand. For me, that sun-drenched terrace will actually be a friend’s apartment in Linz, Austria, where I’ll be house-, plant-, and hamster-sitting while they do the spritzing in the US.
So, as I sip my coffee and marvel at the past 10 months, I decided to tally up just where I’ve actually been.
Consider this: Kiwi Tenor’s Around the World in 365 Days.
(Fireworks. Fanfare. Drumroll, please.)
September 2024
New York City, USA – Life Plot Development (as a good friend would sugggest), coachings, lessons
Chicago, USA – Audition
Iceland – Transit
London, UK – Coachings
Paris, France – Culture, croissants, future-home research
London, UK (again) – More coachings, recordings prep… and COVID.
(Note to self: wear a mask on the Eurostar)
October 2024
New York City, USA – More Plot Development (Enough Plot Development, let's be honest)
Paris, France – Still dreaming
Vienna & Linz, Austria – Seasonal wardrobe swap
London, UK – Transit
Cardiff, Wales – Audition
Martina Franca, Italy – Accademia di Bel Canto
November 2024
Lyon & Béziers, France – Les Pêcheurs de Perles
Madrid, Spain – Audition and Churros
Venice & Cavaso del Tomba, Italy – Lessons
Hamburg, Germany – Audition
Paris, France – Final scoping. Verdict: beautiful, but impractical (for now)
December 2024
Linz, Austria – Base camp for the holidays, prepping Il Pirata
January 2025
Linz & Vienna, Austria – continued
New York City, USA – Coachings, transit, snow, best hot chocolates in existence
Auckland & Wellington, NZ – Il Pirata
February 2025
Wellington, NZ – Il Pirata continues
Invercargill, NZ – Family Time
Melbourne, Australia – Family Time
March 2025
Christchurch & Invercargill, NZ – More Family time
New York City, USA – Transit & winter wardrobe collection from friends
Linz, Austria – Repacking
Strasbourg, France – Visa photo
Basel, Switzerland – Friend visit and Surprise audition
Berlin, Germany – Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg
April 2025
Berlin, Germany – Die Meistersinger continued
Toulouse, France – Le Bus Papageno rehearsals
Berlin (again) – Final performance
Toulouse, France – Le Bus Papageno
May 2025
Toulouse & Occitanie, France – Le Bus Papageno
June 2025
Toulouse, Cannes, Avignon – Le Bus Papageno Tour, audition
Rome, Italy – Transit
Cavaso del Tomba, Italy – Lessons
Vienna & Linz, Austria – Coachings, suitcase swap
Béziers, France – Recital
July 2025
Cluj-Napoca, Romania – Coachings
Budapest, Hungary – Transit
Linz, Austria – Summer base
Phew.
Even though I physically sat on all 40 flights and 27 trains and buses, it still doesn’t quite feel real.
What surprises me most is not only the volume of travel, or the fact that I still don't qualify on any frequent flyer programme for a free lounge —but that I did all of it on a true beginner artist’s budget.
Let me be absolutely clear: I’m not rolling in it. I’m not “established.” I’m not at the top of the game. I’m walking the tightrope, taking tiny steps in a career that still may or may not turn into something resembling stability.
And yet—every journey on that list? Every ticket, every couch surf, every suitcase rotation? Necessary. To work. To grow. To learn. To audition. To prepare. To just keep going. A few detours to Linz were only to switch out seasonal clothing from the boxes that hold all my worldly possessions, and occasionally park myself on a friend’s sofa for a few quiet weeks and restore a bit of calm amoungst familair settings.
When I left my steady chorus job, I didn’t foresee this level of motion. Back then, there was a different plan—relocating to Paris with my then partner who is based in NYC. The idea was to set up shop, teach, network, make music, and consume our body weight in croissants and Burgundy Wine. But life (as it likes to do) threw in a massive plot twist. The abundant croissants didnt eventuate. And suddenly, it made more financial sense to travel than to pay rent in a city I was barely in, let alone had any real reason to be in. So here we are—18 months later—still answering the question "And, where do you live?” with:“Well... on paper, I live in Paris. But, in reality, it's wherever my suitcase is.”
There is something comforting, though, about being in your 30s. You develop a kind of seasoned patience—the ability to zoom out and say, “This too shall pass.” Someday I’ll answer that question with “On the Cotes d'Azur” or (dare I dream?) “a penthouse overlooking Central Park.”(Okay, yes—that’s probably the delusion talking.)
Still, that zoomed-out lens doesn’t completely prevent the occasional (ok, frequent) 2:33am spiral of financial anxiety and existential dread. (Anyone want to sponsor a Tenor?)
But here’s the truth: In between the chaos, the hurdles and the coachings, this season was joyful.
In New York, I found new friends and mentors who have changed the trajectory of my work and life and perspectives. I went to a party of a city photographer/airbnb host, meeting more wonderfully interesting people of New York. I saw world class, indescribably moving Jazz from the 89 year old George Coleman, and never ending good opera at The Met, meeting new people in and around the city, I ran around Central Park at sunset - which for me is a huge feat to achieve, I've eaten pizza by the slice, sharing the experience and excitement of art found within that city, I've argued on the phone outside the Metropolitan Museum, and walked the Highline while talking career with my agent.
In Chicago, I reconnected with the warmth of suburban family life, eating my body weight in Country-style Chicken Pie... I spent Christmas in Austria surrounded not by my family, but by the next best thing. I made professional and personal connections in Paris, chatted with retired actors in Hamburg, and met an 88-year-old man on the metro who told me he once lived in Chicago and fell in love—twice—in one year, giving insight into how life moved and undulates.
In London, I looked after a cat named Scampi who insisted on nightly mouse-murder missions, which involved my own nightly mouse-rescue missions. I made new friends at an Ottolenghi restaurant where were from the US, which has now turned into a regular whatsapp chat and base for me to stay in when I'm in New York.
In New Zealand, I reconnected with home again, ate my weight in fresh nectarines and peaches and ridiculously delicious yoghurt and granola. In that time realised how much I’ve grown since leaving at age 18. I’ve sipped coffee with Turkish café owners in Days Bay, been philosophically unravelled by a former Queen’s Counsel, and built beautiful friendships with cast-mates across France and Germany, New Zealand and more. In Melbourne, I rediscovered how much the city means to me (and the benefits of an exceptionally good barber).
So, yes—I won’t say I’m entirely “happy.” I won’t pretend the stress isn’t real and that the life of an emerging or establishing opera is not a tough one. But when I zoom out and look at the life I’ve willingly stumbled headfirst into...Man. What a life this is.
Let me know what you might like to hear about in the next post! And if you wanna keep up to date, feel free to go to the main 'blog' page to sign up to my email list.
Till next time
Z
PS...Again...anyone want to sponsor a tenor? haha
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