Doing it Anway
I have two insecurities.
One of them is singing. It just is. Maybe it was the occasional mean comment years ago, or the fact that I never went to music school; who knows? I am just insecure about my singing ability. I own that. I can sing in a choir, because, well, you're in a bubble of other singers, and you can really lean into the music, sing from the heart and beam with joy. And when you miss a note, hardly anybody will notice.
I am not a soloist. I say I don't want to be. Depending on what day it is, that might be true. But when you're not a soloist, even auditions for choirs are torture. Just you and the choir director, your voice and technical abilities (or lack thereof) completely exposed. It's frightening.
But I audition anyway. Because you can't sing with symphony orchestras on big stages if you don't. And I have sung in some awesome choirs...Beethoven's 9th 'Ode to Joy' in German? Messiah four years running? I did it. And it's amazing. When a crowd of thousands rises to their feet and applauds you start to float a little. And when the maestro points to the choir and the crowd goes crazy your chest feels like it's about to explode.
Before today, my last audition was for the solo in Hard Times by Craig Hella Johnson when I sang in UNCG's University Chorale. I was in the director's office and she was super friendly, because she always is, and I noticed her argyle socks. Yup, socks. "Awesome socks!" I said. She said thanks. I noticed they matched her scarf or sweater or something, and I said "I wonder what socks I am wearing today?" And sure enough...I took my shoe off to show her my peace & love socks. I do not make this shit up. This really happened. Eventually she said "Are you ready?" I put my shoe back on and fought my way through the piece. And someone else got the part (rightfully so, Maggie Schwenker is freaking amazing).
Auditions are nerve-wracking and stifling to me.
But it's whatever.
So, today, I went to audition for the part of alto in my church's newest ensemble: the very select Westminster Chamber Singers. A choir of 24, that will sing some absolutely stunning music. I had been so excited about this group and was really hoping to be a part of it. I had done all I could to prepare (including vocalizing in my office and in the car on the way to church), and the audition was supposed to be rather informal.
But then when you're there, in the empty sanctuary with the guy who's never heard you sing...it's like the oxygen leaves your brain and your throat closes up. I faked it as long as I could. I got to start with one of my all-time favorites: Doch der Herr from Mendelssohn's St. Paulus oratorium (without the recit, and no, I sounded nothing like that). I felt like I did reasonably well on the arioso. Unlike the last time I performed it, I did not take any breaths in the middle of words (as you get used to doing with stagger breathing in choirs), and I didn't run out of breath on the long notes, so I was proud of that.
Then you do the vocalizing. And well, that's just ahh, and neee. So, fine. Whatever.
Then came the dreaded sight-reading. Now, let me remind everyone that most of the people in this new ensemble have entire degrees in music, teach music or perform music for a living. I DON'T. I'm a study abroad advisor. I don't sightread. And I had told the guy that. So, because he is a nice guy, he gave me a piece that, I kid you not, started with the alto line having 9 notes in a row on the same pitch.
Talk about throwing you a bone.
But...I froze. I was stifled. He handed me the sheet, gave me the pitch and said "sing." And I was like, "without accompaniment? Without ever having heard it? I can't do that!" I actually said this out loud.
(Note to anyone who ever plans to audition for anything: you can't do that. That's just as bad as taking your shoe off. You just do what the conductor asks and fake it).
But as I said...I had faked my calm as long as I could. He played the first few bars for me, then sang it with me...nothing. He started playing the piece 3 or 4 times, and each time I couldn't start. I could only whine with my eyes closed, because I was so embarrassed, and honestly, I was hoping to subconsciously convince him just to let me leave without it. But, alas!, he would not relent. When I finally sang, I changed pitches after 3 notes. And he very calmly said, "well let's do it again, and this time, don't change pitches." (seeing as it was the same fucking note 9 times in a row).
I felt dumb. I am not dumb. My intellect is not one of my insecurities. I know I'm smart. But I can't sightread. I kept saying it over and over. Well - the truth is, I was psyching myself out. Once I really got started on the piece, I was able to accurately sing about 4 or 5 bars of varying pitches and rhythms. And the guy said, "See! You CAN sightread."
No, I can't. Shut up. So, when that torturous part was over....he gave me yet another piece to read. Eventually we were done and he said "Congratulations, you're in the choir."
I honestly think I got in either on good looks or diversity. I think it's the latter.
As you know if you regularly read this blog, I usually have a point with my posts. And because I'm such a great writer they are typically pretty obvious. :)
At the risk of sounding trite...DO IT! Do the things you're scared of! Fly, climb, swim, love, learn, live - SING! Do it! I tell you, the floaty feeling after a concert makes it all worthwhile. And hopefully, you will be lucky like me - and a nice guy will throw you a bone. I mean, he had been ever so supportive throughout the whole process. After the arioso he said, "you should take lessons. Work on connecting the breath." I said "yeah, I don't have that. - "Well, it's not elusive. You can learn it, and I bet you'd be able to sing a lot higher."
What a nice thing to say.
And then tonight, in Chancel Choir rehearsal, the alto next to me looked at me in the middle of a piece and said "God, your voice is so beautiful. I just want to stop and listen."
So there! In your face, insecurity! In your face!
One of them is singing. It just is. Maybe it was the occasional mean comment years ago, or the fact that I never went to music school; who knows? I am just insecure about my singing ability. I own that. I can sing in a choir, because, well, you're in a bubble of other singers, and you can really lean into the music, sing from the heart and beam with joy. And when you miss a note, hardly anybody will notice.
I am not a soloist. I say I don't want to be. Depending on what day it is, that might be true. But when you're not a soloist, even auditions for choirs are torture. Just you and the choir director, your voice and technical abilities (or lack thereof) completely exposed. It's frightening.
But I audition anyway. Because you can't sing with symphony orchestras on big stages if you don't. And I have sung in some awesome choirs...Beethoven's 9th 'Ode to Joy' in German? Messiah four years running? I did it. And it's amazing. When a crowd of thousands rises to their feet and applauds you start to float a little. And when the maestro points to the choir and the crowd goes crazy your chest feels like it's about to explode.
Before today, my last audition was for the solo in Hard Times by Craig Hella Johnson when I sang in UNCG's University Chorale. I was in the director's office and she was super friendly, because she always is, and I noticed her argyle socks. Yup, socks. "Awesome socks!" I said. She said thanks. I noticed they matched her scarf or sweater or something, and I said "I wonder what socks I am wearing today?" And sure enough...I took my shoe off to show her my peace & love socks. I do not make this shit up. This really happened. Eventually she said "Are you ready?" I put my shoe back on and fought my way through the piece. And someone else got the part (rightfully so, Maggie Schwenker is freaking amazing).
Auditions are nerve-wracking and stifling to me.
But it's whatever.
So, today, I went to audition for the part of alto in my church's newest ensemble: the very select Westminster Chamber Singers. A choir of 24, that will sing some absolutely stunning music. I had been so excited about this group and was really hoping to be a part of it. I had done all I could to prepare (including vocalizing in my office and in the car on the way to church), and the audition was supposed to be rather informal.
But then when you're there, in the empty sanctuary with the guy who's never heard you sing...it's like the oxygen leaves your brain and your throat closes up. I faked it as long as I could. I got to start with one of my all-time favorites: Doch der Herr from Mendelssohn's St. Paulus oratorium (without the recit, and no, I sounded nothing like that). I felt like I did reasonably well on the arioso. Unlike the last time I performed it, I did not take any breaths in the middle of words (as you get used to doing with stagger breathing in choirs), and I didn't run out of breath on the long notes, so I was proud of that.
Then you do the vocalizing. And well, that's just ahh, and neee. So, fine. Whatever.
Then came the dreaded sight-reading. Now, let me remind everyone that most of the people in this new ensemble have entire degrees in music, teach music or perform music for a living. I DON'T. I'm a study abroad advisor. I don't sightread. And I had told the guy that. So, because he is a nice guy, he gave me a piece that, I kid you not, started with the alto line having 9 notes in a row on the same pitch.
Talk about throwing you a bone.
But...I froze. I was stifled. He handed me the sheet, gave me the pitch and said "sing." And I was like, "without accompaniment? Without ever having heard it? I can't do that!" I actually said this out loud.
(Note to anyone who ever plans to audition for anything: you can't do that. That's just as bad as taking your shoe off. You just do what the conductor asks and fake it).
But as I said...I had faked my calm as long as I could. He played the first few bars for me, then sang it with me...nothing. He started playing the piece 3 or 4 times, and each time I couldn't start. I could only whine with my eyes closed, because I was so embarrassed, and honestly, I was hoping to subconsciously convince him just to let me leave without it. But, alas!, he would not relent. When I finally sang, I changed pitches after 3 notes. And he very calmly said, "well let's do it again, and this time, don't change pitches." (seeing as it was the same fucking note 9 times in a row).
I felt dumb. I am not dumb. My intellect is not one of my insecurities. I know I'm smart. But I can't sightread. I kept saying it over and over. Well - the truth is, I was psyching myself out. Once I really got started on the piece, I was able to accurately sing about 4 or 5 bars of varying pitches and rhythms. And the guy said, "See! You CAN sightread."
No, I can't. Shut up. So, when that torturous part was over....he gave me yet another piece to read. Eventually we were done and he said "Congratulations, you're in the choir."
I honestly think I got in either on good looks or diversity. I think it's the latter.
As you know if you regularly read this blog, I usually have a point with my posts. And because I'm such a great writer they are typically pretty obvious. :)
At the risk of sounding trite...DO IT! Do the things you're scared of! Fly, climb, swim, love, learn, live - SING! Do it! I tell you, the floaty feeling after a concert makes it all worthwhile. And hopefully, you will be lucky like me - and a nice guy will throw you a bone. I mean, he had been ever so supportive throughout the whole process. After the arioso he said, "you should take lessons. Work on connecting the breath." I said "yeah, I don't have that. - "Well, it's not elusive. You can learn it, and I bet you'd be able to sing a lot higher."
What a nice thing to say.
And then tonight, in Chancel Choir rehearsal, the alto next to me looked at me in the middle of a piece and said "God, your voice is so beautiful. I just want to stop and listen."
So there! In your face, insecurity! In your face!
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