An entry or two ago I was in raptures about the joys of singing, especially with the Choral Society of Durham. Well, this morning I received in my inbox a link to a review of the concert that provoked that reflection. Published on Classical Voice of North Carolina, a site that follows the performing arts state-wide, the review is titled Still the Preferred Christmas Concert, and is amazingly positive. I now, most assuredly, feel even more honored and humbled to be a part of something so wonderful.
P.S. I should be able to get a recording of this concert sometime after the new year... my only sadness is that our most faithful audience members are so far away, but I will do what I can to share.
Showing posts with label Choral Society of Durham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Choral Society of Durham. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
A Most Perfect Gift
"There's nothing else like choral singing in all of human experience. We have the opportunity to create beautiful music together with others, using an instruments that are a very part of who we are."
I wish I could remember exactly the words he used, but this is the closest I can come to what Rodney Wynkoop said to us tonight before we headed upstairs to sing the second of our two Christmas concerts. The room we occupied beneath the majestic Duke Chapel was not designed to hold 150 people comfortably (or uncomfortably, for that matter), but there was a warmth and connectedness and electricity amongst the singers crammed into every corner of the too-small space, and all of us knew that what he was saying was true.
We had worked on the music for weeks, learning the intricacies of rhythm, pitch, blend, tempo, dynamics, feeling, phrasing and text. We'd labored over each piece and worked the trickier elements repeatedly. Still, I never feel quite ready to perform.
It's as if I want the music to invade every pore of my being. I want to breathe it, dream it, feel it in the pulsing of my heart. I want to know it so intimately that it simply flows from me, but that kind of mastery is very difficult to achieve, especially in just a few weeks and in the isolation of learning my bits at home alone. Then there is the challenge of producing the sound I hear in my mind faithfully, despite the limits of my natural voice and its training. The best I can usually do is to memorize large portions of the score and hope to only use my music as a subtle reminder of the details that escape me, while I watch and listen to see how the notes and text will be interpreted in the moment of performance.
That's one of the beauties of music; because it is performed by people, it is never exactly the same twice. Each instance of a piece is nuanced -- influenced by the mood of the conductor, the attentiveness of each choir member, the accidents of timing (such as the train that barged through the neighborhood with whistle blaring during an otherwise quiet moment in our first performance), and the energy in the room. If you are not truly in the moment, you miss the gift of that unique sonority and emotion that exists only there, only then.
I'm struck, as I sit here writing, by a deep feeling of contentment, and a deep feeling of loss. I have these moments only once, and I want their glow to illumine my soul long after the sound waves have died out and we're all resumed the business our lives.
Is it any wonder the angels sing before the King of heaven? Is it a mystery that music is the service perfect beings bring to the deity? Surely not. There's nothing that moves the soul so deeply. Nothing so transformative, when music reflects the highest calling we each possess: the calling to love as we are loved, overwhelmingly and perfectly.
Sometimes, in the moment when the cracks in my "professional" veneer begin to show, I find my voice quavering in emotion, and my eyes brimming with tears. I wonder to think that I have been given the gift to create something that is a reflection of the beauty of the very throne-room of God. I, so broken. I, so imperfect. I, so unequal to the task. Even now I am not quite composed.
I'm so grateful that God has given us tongues to sing His praises. I'm overwhelmed to think that we have been given a gift of such transcendence and power. I'm humbled to be allowed to participate in that gift so publicly. I'm honored to express part of my being I am in songs that display the tiniest glimpse of the glory of the Author and Source of all Being.
The echoes of this music won't leave my mind for weeks. Its deep reverberations may never depart my soul. Somehow, in the blending of voices in that one, fleeting moment, that music has become a part of who I am. What a gift.
A most perfect gift.
I wish I could remember exactly the words he used, but this is the closest I can come to what Rodney Wynkoop said to us tonight before we headed upstairs to sing the second of our two Christmas concerts. The room we occupied beneath the majestic Duke Chapel was not designed to hold 150 people comfortably (or uncomfortably, for that matter), but there was a warmth and connectedness and electricity amongst the singers crammed into every corner of the too-small space, and all of us knew that what he was saying was true.
We had worked on the music for weeks, learning the intricacies of rhythm, pitch, blend, tempo, dynamics, feeling, phrasing and text. We'd labored over each piece and worked the trickier elements repeatedly. Still, I never feel quite ready to perform.
It's as if I want the music to invade every pore of my being. I want to breathe it, dream it, feel it in the pulsing of my heart. I want to know it so intimately that it simply flows from me, but that kind of mastery is very difficult to achieve, especially in just a few weeks and in the isolation of learning my bits at home alone. Then there is the challenge of producing the sound I hear in my mind faithfully, despite the limits of my natural voice and its training. The best I can usually do is to memorize large portions of the score and hope to only use my music as a subtle reminder of the details that escape me, while I watch and listen to see how the notes and text will be interpreted in the moment of performance.
That's one of the beauties of music; because it is performed by people, it is never exactly the same twice. Each instance of a piece is nuanced -- influenced by the mood of the conductor, the attentiveness of each choir member, the accidents of timing (such as the train that barged through the neighborhood with whistle blaring during an otherwise quiet moment in our first performance), and the energy in the room. If you are not truly in the moment, you miss the gift of that unique sonority and emotion that exists only there, only then.
I'm struck, as I sit here writing, by a deep feeling of contentment, and a deep feeling of loss. I have these moments only once, and I want their glow to illumine my soul long after the sound waves have died out and we're all resumed the business our lives.
Is it any wonder the angels sing before the King of heaven? Is it a mystery that music is the service perfect beings bring to the deity? Surely not. There's nothing that moves the soul so deeply. Nothing so transformative, when music reflects the highest calling we each possess: the calling to love as we are loved, overwhelmingly and perfectly.
Sometimes, in the moment when the cracks in my "professional" veneer begin to show, I find my voice quavering in emotion, and my eyes brimming with tears. I wonder to think that I have been given the gift to create something that is a reflection of the beauty of the very throne-room of God. I, so broken. I, so imperfect. I, so unequal to the task. Even now I am not quite composed.
I'm so grateful that God has given us tongues to sing His praises. I'm overwhelmed to think that we have been given a gift of such transcendence and power. I'm humbled to be allowed to participate in that gift so publicly. I'm honored to express part of my being I am in songs that display the tiniest glimpse of the glory of the Author and Source of all Being.
The echoes of this music won't leave my mind for weeks. Its deep reverberations may never depart my soul. Somehow, in the blending of voices in that one, fleeting moment, that music has become a part of who I am. What a gift.
A most perfect gift.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The very beginning.
(A very good place to start)
Two weeks ago we undertook the cleaning of our house. That was an ordeal. We're not by nature tidy, so we become so by artifice when we are trying to make a decent impression. (Pay no attention to the dust bunnies behind the curtain...) So, the wind-up to the very long two weeks we have just finished up began with a mop and several scrubbing tools. Cleaning accomplished, we started in on the fun.
Thursday night two weeks ago, we had friends over for dinner. That was a first since we moved, and a welcome change! Dan made pizza. They brought PS2 and some karaoke-style games featuring pop and rock hits, mostly from the 80s. I discovered just how culturally illiterate Dan and I can be, in that we don't know the pop music that we should given our ages. I may have known a few more songs than he did, but either way, we were outclassed. We had lots of fun and I hope we'll have that opportunity again soon. The video of Dan singing Madonna's "Like a Virgin" with our male guest will remain unseen but on file. Someday it may come in handy.
Mom and Dad arrived in town the next day. That was also the night of our dress rehearsal for the concert. We were late for rehearsal -- a very big no-no -- because, among other things, we got ourselves stuck in some of the internal roads in Duke University that Google maps thinks should have taken us to our destination. They didn't. Our late arrival meant I got the end spot on the top riser. The curvature of the risers was such that my side was parallel to the front of the stage. I couldn't help feeling rather exposed there, and I was terrified about that because with as few rehearsals as I had, I was not confident that I could sing accurately or do anything like singing "in character," which we'd been asked to do to bring the opera scenes (in other languages) to life for the audience. I was so upset about being late that I found myself having internal monologue something like this:
"Doh! You are such a loser to be late!"
"I know, and I am annoyed about it, believe me."
"Well, never mind. Now you have to sing anyway."
"I know, but I can't concentrate on singing because I am annoyed."
"You don't have a choice, you know."
"Yes. But maybe if I scowl as I sing it will somehow make it all better. I don't want to be flippant."
"Don't be ridiculous. The professional thing to do now that you are here is to give your all and get into character."
"Shush. I am trying to sing here."
"Good luck with that."
I discovered at the end of rehearsal that the end spot on the top riser also meant that (lucky me) I got to be the first one on the stage when all 130-ish of us (several people skipped out on this concert) took to the stage. Actually, Rodney suggested to the group that I switch spots with a more seasoned choir member, but all of my fellow second Sopranos replied to that with, "You'll be fine." So, with a bit of coaching from Rodney (he'd rather I walk too slowly than too quickly in order to keep the pace reasonable for not-so-mobile choir members who were climbing two flights of stairs from the basement of the theatre in order to get to the stage) and from Dave, who was arranging logistics (Music away from the audience, up the side of the risers, then across), I was as ready as I was going to be.
On Saturday, Mom, Dad, Dan and I went to the local farmer's market. We spent quite a while browsing, while Dad made new friends with several talkative people. We had the not-entirely-unusual experience of meeting someone who had moved to our town from Riverside, CA. She overheard us talking about So Cal and had to talk to us. She said that meeting people from "home" eased the home-sickness she sometimes feels here. She, like everyone else we have met so far, said she loved living here, but her teen-aged daughter did not love it and when time came to go to college, she shipped back off to California. Wares examined, we bought some vegetables and some blondies on the way out and walked back home.
Mom and Dad ran off for a bit in the afternoon, leaving Dan and I one last opportunity to cram opera choruses into our heads. I also had one last chance to try to find which combination of black floor-length, long-sleeved clothing items I would most likely wear. The long-sleeved requirement ruled out my polyester "shroud" from California. Oh yeah... I threw it out when we moved for some indiscernible reason.
We were determined not to be late to the concert, so we headed out to Durham almost 3 hours early, stopping to eat at Tyler's Taproom before trying doors on the old theatre and hanging out in the basement for an hour waiting for everyone else to arrive. We were early. Very early. My frame of mind for the actual concert, as a result, was much more positive.
We were the second half of the program. The first half we were able to watch from the balcony. The soloists were really quite marvelous. The tenor's voice was amazing, and the Soprano was an excellent actress. Her voice didn't have the qualities that my favorite sopranos tend to have (I tend to prefer voices without quite so much vibrato), but she was a joy to watch anyway.
After the intermission, I did, in fact, lead the choir onto the stage. Mom (speed-walker that she is) reported that it was painful to watch me walk on because I had followed directions. Even so, there were gaps. I also noted that the first person to begin each new row seemed to feel exposed and started across the stage at a near run. (I think maybe next time all of the row leaders need the same coaching I got.)
Our portion of the concert went quite well, I believe. I think it was recorded, so I hope to be able to listen to it eventually to get a feel for just how we sounded. Mom and Dad were very impressed with the quality of the choir. I believe one of them remarked that it was amazing to see how all of us could come in and cut off so uniformly with so many voices. I was, as always, paranoid that I had somehow ruined the concert... but it seems that Rodney and our audience members were pretty uniformly happy with the way the concert turned out in spite of me and my neuroses. I know Dan and I felt quite humbled by the experience, and we remain very pleased to be a part of this group.
Two weeks ago we undertook the cleaning of our house. That was an ordeal. We're not by nature tidy, so we become so by artifice when we are trying to make a decent impression. (Pay no attention to the dust bunnies behind the curtain...) So, the wind-up to the very long two weeks we have just finished up began with a mop and several scrubbing tools. Cleaning accomplished, we started in on the fun.
Thursday night two weeks ago, we had friends over for dinner. That was a first since we moved, and a welcome change! Dan made pizza. They brought PS2 and some karaoke-style games featuring pop and rock hits, mostly from the 80s. I discovered just how culturally illiterate Dan and I can be, in that we don't know the pop music that we should given our ages. I may have known a few more songs than he did, but either way, we were outclassed. We had lots of fun and I hope we'll have that opportunity again soon. The video of Dan singing Madonna's "Like a Virgin" with our male guest will remain unseen but on file. Someday it may come in handy.
Mom and Dad arrived in town the next day. That was also the night of our dress rehearsal for the concert. We were late for rehearsal -- a very big no-no -- because, among other things, we got ourselves stuck in some of the internal roads in Duke University that Google maps thinks should have taken us to our destination. They didn't. Our late arrival meant I got the end spot on the top riser. The curvature of the risers was such that my side was parallel to the front of the stage. I couldn't help feeling rather exposed there, and I was terrified about that because with as few rehearsals as I had, I was not confident that I could sing accurately or do anything like singing "in character," which we'd been asked to do to bring the opera scenes (in other languages) to life for the audience. I was so upset about being late that I found myself having internal monologue something like this:
"Doh! You are such a loser to be late!"
"I know, and I am annoyed about it, believe me."
"Well, never mind. Now you have to sing anyway."
"I know, but I can't concentrate on singing because I am annoyed."
"You don't have a choice, you know."
"Yes. But maybe if I scowl as I sing it will somehow make it all better. I don't want to be flippant."
"Don't be ridiculous. The professional thing to do now that you are here is to give your all and get into character."
"Shush. I am trying to sing here."
"Good luck with that."
I discovered at the end of rehearsal that the end spot on the top riser also meant that (lucky me) I got to be the first one on the stage when all 130-ish of us (several people skipped out on this concert) took to the stage. Actually, Rodney suggested to the group that I switch spots with a more seasoned choir member, but all of my fellow second Sopranos replied to that with, "You'll be fine." So, with a bit of coaching from Rodney (he'd rather I walk too slowly than too quickly in order to keep the pace reasonable for not-so-mobile choir members who were climbing two flights of stairs from the basement of the theatre in order to get to the stage) and from Dave, who was arranging logistics (Music away from the audience, up the side of the risers, then across), I was as ready as I was going to be.
On Saturday, Mom, Dad, Dan and I went to the local farmer's market. We spent quite a while browsing, while Dad made new friends with several talkative people. We had the not-entirely-unusual experience of meeting someone who had moved to our town from Riverside, CA. She overheard us talking about So Cal and had to talk to us. She said that meeting people from "home" eased the home-sickness she sometimes feels here. She, like everyone else we have met so far, said she loved living here, but her teen-aged daughter did not love it and when time came to go to college, she shipped back off to California. Wares examined, we bought some vegetables and some blondies on the way out and walked back home.
Mom and Dad ran off for a bit in the afternoon, leaving Dan and I one last opportunity to cram opera choruses into our heads. I also had one last chance to try to find which combination of black floor-length, long-sleeved clothing items I would most likely wear. The long-sleeved requirement ruled out my polyester "shroud" from California. Oh yeah... I threw it out when we moved for some indiscernible reason.
We were determined not to be late to the concert, so we headed out to Durham almost 3 hours early, stopping to eat at Tyler's Taproom before trying doors on the old theatre and hanging out in the basement for an hour waiting for everyone else to arrive. We were early. Very early. My frame of mind for the actual concert, as a result, was much more positive.
We were the second half of the program. The first half we were able to watch from the balcony. The soloists were really quite marvelous. The tenor's voice was amazing, and the Soprano was an excellent actress. Her voice didn't have the qualities that my favorite sopranos tend to have (I tend to prefer voices without quite so much vibrato), but she was a joy to watch anyway.
After the intermission, I did, in fact, lead the choir onto the stage. Mom (speed-walker that she is) reported that it was painful to watch me walk on because I had followed directions. Even so, there were gaps. I also noted that the first person to begin each new row seemed to feel exposed and started across the stage at a near run. (I think maybe next time all of the row leaders need the same coaching I got.)
Our portion of the concert went quite well, I believe. I think it was recorded, so I hope to be able to listen to it eventually to get a feel for just how we sounded. Mom and Dad were very impressed with the quality of the choir. I believe one of them remarked that it was amazing to see how all of us could come in and cut off so uniformly with so many voices. I was, as always, paranoid that I had somehow ruined the concert... but it seems that Rodney and our audience members were pretty uniformly happy with the way the concert turned out in spite of me and my neuroses. I know Dan and I felt quite humbled by the experience, and we remain very pleased to be a part of this group.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
SOLDIERS, SAILORS & CELEBRATION
I realize most of the people reading my blog aren't local enough to us to come hear us sing, but I figure I will post concert details here anyway! This is what you could be hearing if you, like my parents, were visiting us this weekend. I'm very much looking forward to it!
All music is being sung in original languages, which, in this case, means Italian, French and Russian. Two of the three soloists are from the St. Petersburg Theatre of Opera and Ballet's Mussorgsky Theatre. The third, Elizabeth Linnartz, is on the Duke music faculty.
The Center for Slavic, Eurasian, and East European Studies at Duke University Presents
SOLDIERS, SAILORS & CELEBRATION
A Concert of Opera Masterpieces
Marina Tregubovich (soprano)
Elizabeth Linnartz (soprano)
Dmitry Karpov (tenor)
Aleksandr Smorodkin (piano)
Choral Society of Durham (Rodney Wynkoop, conductor)
Gounod, Faust: Duet - Faust and Margarita (from the 1st act)
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin: Lensky's arioso (Ja ljublju Vas, Ol'ga)
and Tatiana's letter aria
Tchaikovsky, Romeo and Juliet: Duet (Balcony scene)
Wagner, Lohengrin: Duet - Lohengrin and Elsa
Dvorak, Rusalka: Rusalka's aria
Donizetti, Lucia di Lammermoor - Chorus of Wedding Guests
Mozart, Idomeneo - Voyagers Chorus
Verdi, Macbeth - Witches' Chorus
Gounod, Faust - Soldiers' Chorus
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin- Waltz Scene
Verdi, La Traviata - Brindisi
Baldwin Auditorium
Duke East Campus
8 p.m., Saturday, October 20, 2007
Tickets may be purchased through Duke University Box Office
www.tickets.duke.edu
All music is being sung in original languages, which, in this case, means Italian, French and Russian. Two of the three soloists are from the St. Petersburg Theatre of Opera and Ballet's Mussorgsky Theatre. The third, Elizabeth Linnartz, is on the Duke music faculty.
The Center for Slavic, Eurasian, and East European Studies at Duke University Presents
SOLDIERS, SAILORS & CELEBRATION
A Concert of Opera Masterpieces
Marina Tregubovich (soprano)
Elizabeth Linnartz (soprano)
Dmitry Karpov (tenor)
Aleksandr Smorodkin (piano)
Choral Society of Durham (Rodney Wynkoop, conductor)
Gounod, Faust: Duet - Faust and Margarita (from the 1st act)
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin: Lensky's arioso (Ja ljublju Vas, Ol'ga)
and Tatiana's letter aria
Tchaikovsky, Romeo and Juliet: Duet (Balcony scene)
Wagner, Lohengrin: Duet - Lohengrin and Elsa
Dvorak, Rusalka: Rusalka's aria
Donizetti, Lucia di Lammermoor - Chorus of Wedding Guests
Mozart, Idomeneo - Voyagers Chorus
Verdi, Macbeth - Witches' Chorus
Gounod, Faust - Soldiers' Chorus
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin- Waltz Scene
Verdi, La Traviata - Brindisi
Baldwin Auditorium
Duke East Campus
8 p.m., Saturday, October 20, 2007
Tickets may be purchased through Duke University Box Office
www.tickets.duke.edu
Monday, October 15, 2007
What we REALLY do at rehearsal
Dance like nobody's watching;
love like you've never been hurt.
Sing like nobody's listening;
live like it's heaven on earth.
-Mark Twain
We just thought nobody was watching...
(And yes, I can be seen in this video. I'll never tell where!)
love like you've never been hurt.
Sing like nobody's listening;
live like it's heaven on earth.
-Mark Twain
We just thought nobody was watching...
(And yes, I can be seen in this video. I'll never tell where!)
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Musical Spankings
"Whenever I am feeling musically superior and need to be taken down a notch, I need to come here." Daniel, on the topic of the Choral Society of Durham. "More like 18 notches for me." Nikki, in response.
Last week we privately auditioned for the Choral Society of Durham, and this week we, out of obedience, attended the first rehearsal, though we have not yet been notified as to whether we have been accepted in the group. My theory is that they require this first rehearsal as a filter: allowing the director to see which of the auditionees are serious enough about the group to show up, and making sure that the auditionees have had an experience of the group that will allow them to decide for themselves whether they feel the group is a good fit when invited to join. It serves another purpose for us: a way to increase our disappointment if we should happen to not make the cut.
This was not our first exposure to the group, as we had gone to a sing-through rehearsal a few weeks ago. Our overall impression of this group was that if there is any way they will have us, we want in... though I hasten to add that neither of us feels quite up to the task. These people can sight-read spots on flypaper and respond to direction well, quickly and accurately. They manage to sing together with nice tone and blend, even with 150 voices, and with some respect for dynamic markings, all during the first read of a piece of music. Add to that the fact that they are warm and welcoming of new people and you have a dream... or a nightmare, if you stare unflinchingly into the face of your musical inadequacies.
We now know there is a choir in the area we would like to be a part of. What we don't know is whether they would like us to be a part of them. We decided to cancel our North Carolina Master Chorale auditions and hang our hopes on this group, so strongly did we connect with its vision, people and direction. If this does not work out for us, we will keep looking for a singing opportunity together, but we'll both be not-so-secretly disappointed.
Joining this group would not be without cost, personal and financial. There is a lot of music to buy, concert dress to procure and lots of personal commitment to muster. Durham's a good 45-minute drive from home for us. Getting there on time, which is absolutely expected without exception, would be a challenge, and getting there at all will cost us in gas.
As for personal cost, I, for one, would absolutely have to carve out time to spend with the music at home. I simply cannot read with the speed and accuracy of the majority of the choir. During the audition, my voice was labeled "lovely", but the reading portion of my audition was not my brightest hour.
It was also not so dismal as my failed reading test for a large, showy choir in Southern California which shall remain unnamed, in large part because the Durham director seemed more concerned with determining if I know the rudiments of reading music, if I am teachable and if I can take direction than he was with discovering whether I already possess immaculate musicianship. So, rather than consigning my paperwork to the nearest round file without a second thought when I misjudged intervals and botched rhythms and then accusing me of already knowing the piece of music that I had never seen before when I actually succeeded at reading (as happened in the other case), this director worked with me on the passage from Bach that I had so badly mangled on my first abortive attempt, asking me to isolate and fix trouble spots and acknowledging that I had managed to get some things right on the first pass (what they were, I have no idea!). It was about as painless as a music reading test could be for me, knowing how sadly that aspect of my musicianship is lacking. I did, before I left the office, have the opportunity to remark that reading is not my strong suit. Working very hard to learn what I need to learn is. We shall see if that is sufficient.
Daniel, on the other hand, gave what the director called the "best reading yet" in this series of auditions. That is an excellent start. However, he had a cold at audition time and his voice was not at all in top form. That, and Daniel's voice is not as trained and honed as those of many of the choir members' voices are sans cold. We discussed beforehand whether mentioning the cold was wise, and we settled on "no excuses" as the best approach. So, Daniel didn't feel particularly confident in the vocalizing he did in the audition, but he didn't offer the singer's bane: "I'm not singing well today because...". Singers are never in top form. There's always something wrong. So, just shut up and sing.
Together, we have enough raw material to make one rather talented singer. Alone, we each have plenty of room for growth. That is how it actually works out, too, because we come as a pair. This is something we do together, so... if they want my "lovely" voice and Daniel's excellent sight-reading, then they also get my bumbling reading and Daniel's not-so-trained voice.
We've been looking at what we did well in hopes that we find enough that is bankable. We hope that another thing in my favor, since my reading is sorely lacking, is the rather respectable list of solo opportunities I have had in the past, thanks mostly to the marvelous Scott Farthing, whom we miss terribly, and who trusted me to perform as a soloist on several challenging classical pieces. We hope that list of solos will say, "someone gave her multiple opportunities to be featured in a very exposed way. This must indicate an ability to rise to the occasion, even if she cannot quickly and accurately sing a piece on sight." Speak, musical resume... speak!
This choir feels to us like the perfect opportunity. They consistently choose programs of the music we like to sing. The choir would force both of us to grow. It would provide opportunities to get to know local musicians. It would provide us the chance to sing with a group that has an excellent reputation and with a director who is respected and talented.
That said, I think it is time we are both taken down a notch or 18. Either way it will happen. We'll find ourselves unworthy of invitation, or we will be invited and find ourselves in need of repeated smacks in the musical rump, in the form of weekly reminders of how much we need to grow as musicians. We'll see which spanking is in order. In the meantime, we've both had fun!
Last week we privately auditioned for the Choral Society of Durham, and this week we, out of obedience, attended the first rehearsal, though we have not yet been notified as to whether we have been accepted in the group. My theory is that they require this first rehearsal as a filter: allowing the director to see which of the auditionees are serious enough about the group to show up, and making sure that the auditionees have had an experience of the group that will allow them to decide for themselves whether they feel the group is a good fit when invited to join. It serves another purpose for us: a way to increase our disappointment if we should happen to not make the cut.
This was not our first exposure to the group, as we had gone to a sing-through rehearsal a few weeks ago. Our overall impression of this group was that if there is any way they will have us, we want in... though I hasten to add that neither of us feels quite up to the task. These people can sight-read spots on flypaper and respond to direction well, quickly and accurately. They manage to sing together with nice tone and blend, even with 150 voices, and with some respect for dynamic markings, all during the first read of a piece of music. Add to that the fact that they are warm and welcoming of new people and you have a dream... or a nightmare, if you stare unflinchingly into the face of your musical inadequacies.
We now know there is a choir in the area we would like to be a part of. What we don't know is whether they would like us to be a part of them. We decided to cancel our North Carolina Master Chorale auditions and hang our hopes on this group, so strongly did we connect with its vision, people and direction. If this does not work out for us, we will keep looking for a singing opportunity together, but we'll both be not-so-secretly disappointed.
Joining this group would not be without cost, personal and financial. There is a lot of music to buy, concert dress to procure and lots of personal commitment to muster. Durham's a good 45-minute drive from home for us. Getting there on time, which is absolutely expected without exception, would be a challenge, and getting there at all will cost us in gas.
As for personal cost, I, for one, would absolutely have to carve out time to spend with the music at home. I simply cannot read with the speed and accuracy of the majority of the choir. During the audition, my voice was labeled "lovely", but the reading portion of my audition was not my brightest hour.
It was also not so dismal as my failed reading test for a large, showy choir in Southern California which shall remain unnamed, in large part because the Durham director seemed more concerned with determining if I know the rudiments of reading music, if I am teachable and if I can take direction than he was with discovering whether I already possess immaculate musicianship. So, rather than consigning my paperwork to the nearest round file without a second thought when I misjudged intervals and botched rhythms and then accusing me of already knowing the piece of music that I had never seen before when I actually succeeded at reading (as happened in the other case), this director worked with me on the passage from Bach that I had so badly mangled on my first abortive attempt, asking me to isolate and fix trouble spots and acknowledging that I had managed to get some things right on the first pass (what they were, I have no idea!). It was about as painless as a music reading test could be for me, knowing how sadly that aspect of my musicianship is lacking. I did, before I left the office, have the opportunity to remark that reading is not my strong suit. Working very hard to learn what I need to learn is. We shall see if that is sufficient.
Daniel, on the other hand, gave what the director called the "best reading yet" in this series of auditions. That is an excellent start. However, he had a cold at audition time and his voice was not at all in top form. That, and Daniel's voice is not as trained and honed as those of many of the choir members' voices are sans cold. We discussed beforehand whether mentioning the cold was wise, and we settled on "no excuses" as the best approach. So, Daniel didn't feel particularly confident in the vocalizing he did in the audition, but he didn't offer the singer's bane: "I'm not singing well today because...". Singers are never in top form. There's always something wrong. So, just shut up and sing.
Together, we have enough raw material to make one rather talented singer. Alone, we each have plenty of room for growth. That is how it actually works out, too, because we come as a pair. This is something we do together, so... if they want my "lovely" voice and Daniel's excellent sight-reading, then they also get my bumbling reading and Daniel's not-so-trained voice.
We've been looking at what we did well in hopes that we find enough that is bankable. We hope that another thing in my favor, since my reading is sorely lacking, is the rather respectable list of solo opportunities I have had in the past, thanks mostly to the marvelous Scott Farthing, whom we miss terribly, and who trusted me to perform as a soloist on several challenging classical pieces. We hope that list of solos will say, "someone gave her multiple opportunities to be featured in a very exposed way. This must indicate an ability to rise to the occasion, even if she cannot quickly and accurately sing a piece on sight." Speak, musical resume... speak!
This choir feels to us like the perfect opportunity. They consistently choose programs of the music we like to sing. The choir would force both of us to grow. It would provide opportunities to get to know local musicians. It would provide us the chance to sing with a group that has an excellent reputation and with a director who is respected and talented.
That said, I think it is time we are both taken down a notch or 18. Either way it will happen. We'll find ourselves unworthy of invitation, or we will be invited and find ourselves in need of repeated smacks in the musical rump, in the form of weekly reminders of how much we need to grow as musicians. We'll see which spanking is in order. In the meantime, we've both had fun!
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Music for a While
One of the things that sold us on moving to the Triangle when we were weighing the moving options was the knowledge that there are plenty of musical opportunities here in the area. Now that we've been here a little over a month, we're starting to explore them fairly actively. Dan and I have together signed up to audition for two groups: the North Carolina Master Chorale and the Choral Society of Durham.
We were invited to join the Choral Society of Durham for a sing-through of some of the music they will be performing this season. The season features Charpentier’s Midnight Mass & Carols, Mozart's Coronation Mass, Bach's St. John Passion and Britten's War Requiem. We did some reading of the Charpentier and the Britten. Let me tell you... we did some of it at concert speed on only the second read. Holey Moley, that's not easy music. Both of us were quite impressed by the quality of the singers and their musicianship. Even rough sight reading produced a nice sound, and while there were some notable flubs, there were always a fair number of people who got it spot on. They were also very good with direction... when the director asked for something, he got it.
They had some social time afterwards, which led to our second pleasant surprise of the evening: the people were very welcoming and several of them stopped us to tell us how glad they were that we had joined them and that they hoped to see us when rehearsals begin. They were a nice bunch of people, and they felt like a warm, friendly, supportive bunch... much like the choirs we loved so much at Saddleback College.
The director had a style that both Dan and I liked (though Scott is a hard act to follow!) and was very approachable. He also took time to greet and talk to us, which brings me to the third pleasant surprise of the evening. He asked if we had heard the Pacific Chorale, and when we said yes, Dan added that I had even auditioned for them. My face fell a bit, and the director asked, "Was it not a good night for you?" I replied that it wasn't that it was a bad night, it is that I was asked to do things that really made me a bundle of nerves and that I had not made a good showing because my musicianship is just not that good. I went on to explain that the call I received afterward said, "We loved your voice and wish we could use you, but your musicianship is just not up to par. Go learn some musicianship and come back." His reply? "And that is hard to do, isn't it? The best way to do that is to sing in choirs." I got the impression that he's willing to see potential. He also explained that they do everything they can to make people auditioning feel at ease.
Honestly, I would be disappointed if we didn't make it into this group. It seems very much like what we loved so much in CA. We talked about it, and the deal is that we come as a pair. If Dan and I both make a choir, great! If not, we'll keep looking until we find something we can do together.
The North Carolina Master Chorale also looks like a great group, though we haven't had an opportunity yet to really get to know much about it. It also has a great program for the year, and it has the advantage of being somewhat closer to home. They'll be performing quite a bit of lovely music, but they are also a bit more showy, in that they have special guest artists with greater frequency, televised concerts and a core of professional singers. I am not sure, to be frank, that we (or I, at least) are up to their standards.
So, wish us luck! We're up to Raleigh on Monday for the NCMC auditions, and then Labor Day brings our Durham auditions! The rehearsal and performance schedules of these two large groups conflict enough that we'd have to choose between them in any event.
I have also arranged to check out a third group myself, the Musicians Royale, who do Dickens-style Christmas music in various locations, perform at a Celtic-themed Halloween event and, most notably, are a fixture at the North Carolina Renaissance Faire: singing for the Queen's banquet in the morning, wandering and singing in smaller groups through the day, and leading a rowdy pub sing in the evening. I'm just insane enough to think that sounds like lots of fun. I am told I passed my audition while just talking on the phone, so unless formalities remain, joining officially may just be a matter of desire and coming up with costumes. Hmmm... so maybe next spring will find me at the faire.
That's all for now. We'll keep singing and we'll keep you posted!
We were invited to join the Choral Society of Durham for a sing-through of some of the music they will be performing this season. The season features Charpentier’s Midnight Mass & Carols, Mozart's Coronation Mass, Bach's St. John Passion and Britten's War Requiem. We did some reading of the Charpentier and the Britten. Let me tell you... we did some of it at concert speed on only the second read. Holey Moley, that's not easy music. Both of us were quite impressed by the quality of the singers and their musicianship. Even rough sight reading produced a nice sound, and while there were some notable flubs, there were always a fair number of people who got it spot on. They were also very good with direction... when the director asked for something, he got it.
They had some social time afterwards, which led to our second pleasant surprise of the evening: the people were very welcoming and several of them stopped us to tell us how glad they were that we had joined them and that they hoped to see us when rehearsals begin. They were a nice bunch of people, and they felt like a warm, friendly, supportive bunch... much like the choirs we loved so much at Saddleback College.
The director had a style that both Dan and I liked (though Scott is a hard act to follow!) and was very approachable. He also took time to greet and talk to us, which brings me to the third pleasant surprise of the evening. He asked if we had heard the Pacific Chorale, and when we said yes, Dan added that I had even auditioned for them. My face fell a bit, and the director asked, "Was it not a good night for you?" I replied that it wasn't that it was a bad night, it is that I was asked to do things that really made me a bundle of nerves and that I had not made a good showing because my musicianship is just not that good. I went on to explain that the call I received afterward said, "We loved your voice and wish we could use you, but your musicianship is just not up to par. Go learn some musicianship and come back." His reply? "And that is hard to do, isn't it? The best way to do that is to sing in choirs." I got the impression that he's willing to see potential. He also explained that they do everything they can to make people auditioning feel at ease.
Honestly, I would be disappointed if we didn't make it into this group. It seems very much like what we loved so much in CA. We talked about it, and the deal is that we come as a pair. If Dan and I both make a choir, great! If not, we'll keep looking until we find something we can do together.
The North Carolina Master Chorale also looks like a great group, though we haven't had an opportunity yet to really get to know much about it. It also has a great program for the year, and it has the advantage of being somewhat closer to home. They'll be performing quite a bit of lovely music, but they are also a bit more showy, in that they have special guest artists with greater frequency, televised concerts and a core of professional singers. I am not sure, to be frank, that we (or I, at least) are up to their standards.
So, wish us luck! We're up to Raleigh on Monday for the NCMC auditions, and then Labor Day brings our Durham auditions! The rehearsal and performance schedules of these two large groups conflict enough that we'd have to choose between them in any event.
I have also arranged to check out a third group myself, the Musicians Royale, who do Dickens-style Christmas music in various locations, perform at a Celtic-themed Halloween event and, most notably, are a fixture at the North Carolina Renaissance Faire: singing for the Queen's banquet in the morning, wandering and singing in smaller groups through the day, and leading a rowdy pub sing in the evening. I'm just insane enough to think that sounds like lots of fun. I am told I passed my audition while just talking on the phone, so unless formalities remain, joining officially may just be a matter of desire and coming up with costumes. Hmmm... so maybe next spring will find me at the faire.
That's all for now. We'll keep singing and we'll keep you posted!
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