The Choir Life

One of the sopranos adjusts the white tie and collar of the 90-year-old bass who still sings with great joy and skill. After the concert, a few singers, some still wearing formal dress, collapse the risers, drag them out of the sanctuary and load them onto a trailer provided by another singer and her husband. We rehearse and perform literally for hours on those unforgiving risers. Feet go to sleep and knees lock and much Advil is taken. But during the concert, not once, but several times, an audience member says, “wow” out loud. And that spontaneously spoken “wow” makes it all worthwhile.

Choir is just like life, filled with frustration and occasional tears because “I’ll never memorize this damn song,” and then you do. It’s people coming up with an extra white tie or set of concert jewelry when you’ve forgotten yours. It’s having a bad day at work but still showing up for rehearsal.  Sometimes choir is a revolving door of self-doubt and self-confidence, but you keep pushing through it because the music and the people around you lift you up and carry you with them on the days when self-doubt takes over. And then there are the times filled with exhilaration and jubilation when an audience rises to its feet, and you know you’ve given them your best.

Choir is friends driving an hour to hear your group perform and then sending kind emails afterwards. Choir is linking arms with your fellow singers and doing a kick-line to Buffalo Gals along the shores of the Adriatic Sea when you were on tour in Italy. Choir means the person responsible for entrances and exits and stage movement during concerts must herd a group of unruly cats every single time. Choir is certain pieces that absolutely gut you because of the memories associated with that particular song. Choir is recording and uploading songs on your phone over and over again until they are good enough to create a virtual concert during the pandemic. Choir is a truly superb director who shapes and polishes the skills that each person brings into one unified voice. Choir is forging lifelong friendships.

This weekend, we will do this three times. We will dress in our tuxes and gowns and hope that the air conditioning is turned up in the venues. We will find our place on the risers and troubleshoot any last-minute issues.  We will make sure we stay together on the processional and aim for perfection in one of the most challenging pieces most of us have ever sung. At one point the men will cavort like drunken sailors and the women will clap and stomp their feet in perfect synchronization and the organist will play great thundering chords and the audience will applaud and perhaps even shout out the occasional “wow.”

And when we go home to massage our aching feet and eat a sandwich or bowl of ice cream (because singing makes you hungry), we will pause to remember how incredibly lucky we are to live life surrounded by the voices of others raised in song.