Wow. I am on a roller coaster ride right now. I wrote awhile back to a group of friends about my stories around classical music and how I thought that my friends didn’t “get” classical music. And then I shifted that to look at how I wasn’t “getting” classical music even though I’d been singing it for decades.
Shortly after that post I started listening to choral classical music. I’d never liked to listen before, only perform. I went to a live performance and was wowed. I walked away in awe of the human voice and classical music.
Ever since then I’ve been listening to more and more classical music.
Then, I get a pop quiz from the universe. Do I want to sing in yet another choir (one that I’d been hearing fantastic things about) or do I want to participate in a women’s circle. They both meet on Monday nights.
I thought for sure that the answer would be women’s circle. My friend Deb, of the women’s circle calls. I tell her of my dilemma. She asks me “which brings you more aliveness?” I am shocked to discover that it’s the choir. I truly want to sing in this choir. I commit to getting into this choir.
The next day I call for an audition, set one up for this coming Monday.
Fast forward to Friday night. I’ve got a house full of people; it’s a small women’s party; it’s loud. The phone rings. It’s one of the guys from THE choir. He’s calling to see if I would be interested in replacing their alto soloist for one, maybe two pieces for their concert NEXT WEEK!
First I’m scared; I waffle back and forth; it’s a lot of work; I’ll have to rehearse Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday nights and then perform on Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon.
I stew about it for most of the morning; making up stories about how hard it would be and do I really want to do that before I leave for Greece the following week.
Mark gently points out that I’m stewing; I continue to stew. At one o’clock the director of this choir shows up at my house with music, as was set up last night in a haze of loud women and disbelief that this is even happening. We meet; he’s lovely. (He’s 74.) We head to the piano, he works with me on what he wants me to sing, tells me I have a fine instrument (it seems to be the description de rigueur for my voice). He says, “I hope this is a yes.” I’ve said yes. I’ve committed to performing in this concert in ONE WEEK. I’m scared and excited and trying to remember to breathe!
After he leaves I call the tenor who I’m singing with (it’s a solo choir, so one soprano, one alto, one tenor, one bass). Anyway, I call the tenor to ask if he’d be willing to help me learn the music. He says to me “Well, I hope you don’t mind that I gave the director your number.”
“So, you’re okay with me trying to do this in one week?”
“Yeah, I’m okay with this.” a distinct smile in his voice.
I’m singing with people whom I’ve sung with before and whom I love to sing with. This director seems amazing. I feel like I’m about to start on a whole new singing career. One that I understand this time. I “get” classical music now in a way that I didn’t before. I was singing it because I was good at it. Now I’m singing it because it feels like an area of genius for me.
This is easy, it’s like breathing for me.
la, la, la, la, la, la, la