Rehersals

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
~Berthold Auerbach

The St Andrews Chorus is a lovely refuge on Friday nights. No matter how bad or stressful or long the week has been, Friday night I get to sing. And I've realized it's something my soul desperately needs.

And many times I'll wonder what would've happened and what direction I would've gone if I'd studied music and tried to go professional. Different roads and all.

But this semester we are doing Elgar's The Dream of Gerontius. It's rare that we come on a piece that I haven't at least heard of in passing, but this was a new one on me. And I've determined from the recordings that I've been able to find that it's much more popular in Britain and Australia as a performance piece than in the US. Which is a shame -- the work is intricate and powerful and one that is worth a listen if people get the chance.


Break in Younger Hall, waiting for the rehearsal to start back up.

And tomorrow we'll perform it. Saturday afternoon is blocked off for the dress rehearsal and Saturday night is performance.

I love performance.

St Andrews Chorus Christmas Concert

Like I've said before, I'm a member of the community chorus here in St Andrews and we had our Christmas concert a week ago. It has been far too long since I've sung choral music, but the body and the soul remember just as soon as you warm them up. Putting on all black, making sure that shoes are comfortable for standing, making sure that you as a member of the chorus aren't in anything that will stand out too much, and singing. As soon as I pick up and open a black folder, I'm instantly transported back to Mr Thomas, my high school choir director, and no matter how long I'm out of high school, the first thing I think of when I stand on a stage is 'Remember, no selfish gestures'. Aka, if you draw attention to yourself by fidgeting or playing with your hair or staring off to the side you're distracting from the music -- so don't do it. The music is bigger than one person. Stand up straight. Be proud because you're creating something beautiful that didn't exist before and won't exist when you're finished. It exists in the moment, so love it and be proud.

We did three lovely pieces, but my favorite hands down was Paul Mealor's Stabat Mater (and actually was the premiere of the orchestrated version). The most fantastic part was that Paul was there for the concert, as he's based at the University of Aberdeen. I've never sung for a composer before, so it's both thrilling and intimidating to know that the person who put the ink to paper for it was sitting there listening. He was very complimentary, as was the review in the Dundee Courier, so kudos to us!


The St Andrews Chorus after the concert, with Paul Mealor.
Younger Hall, University of St Andrews

I've missed choral music, and I didn't realize how much I missed it until I was faced with it again. People on the outside may think that it looks regimented, and it very much is, but within that and within the performance there's a moment of freedom where it's not just you but all of you. I love it, and I can't wait to jump back into it next semester.

Lord Nelson, I Presume?

My favorite thing about Friday is that the only place I have to be is choir practice. There is something delightfully cathartic (and boy could I use the catharsis after the budding anger of dealing with an idiot boy yesterday) about choral singing. It was something that I didn't realize how much I'd missed it in the six years since I'd had the chance to do it. It was one of the worst things about working a job that required extended travel during two seasons and drop of the hat travel during the rest of the time if it came up -- I couldn't do art, or music, or theater because I could never guarantee that I could be there for rehearsal.

Now? Now Friday nights are choir nights. And even though it took a moment or two to get used to British choral terms (a quarter note is apparently a quaver here, which... it never occurred to me that terms would be different. I assumed it was like math, a universal language. But then, they also call it 'maths' here, so I can see where my logic is fundamentally flawed...) it was like riding a bike or pulling out a comfortable sweater. It just fits. I'm a singer, I always have been. The weight of the music in my hands and the awkward and humorous warm up exercises are like coming home.

And for a community choir, I am impressed at the level of difficulty they take on. Performing Haydn's Lord Nelson Mass for Christmas? Yes, please! Attempting Paul Mealor's Sabat Mater even though all of the vocal parts end up down in the basement for most of the piece? Of course! It's all new and challenging... and comforting. I've missed this, and I needed it.