In the nearly 17 months since we've moved, one of the lovely side effects has been that we have no regular local commitments. We have our work, which is fine, but there have been no responsibilities beyond that, which allows us to do what we want whenever we want. No meetings, no expectations to be anywhere any particular time. We're flyin' completely under the radar. Free as birds! So lovely!
While we both have intended to become involved up here in myriad ways eventually, we'd been stretching the Total Freedom Thing out longer than we thought we would. I'm still fine with not getting out there to make a bunch of new friends, yet (though Tom has been more interested to get that aspect of our life cranked up sooner--but, hey, we know a couple of our neighbors!). I guess I always figured that when I got my work spaces set up, I'd start circulating in the art world, then add in some other kinds of stuff like music, volunteering in social services, etc.
All in good time.But, a few weeks ago, I saw an item in the paper about auditions for a local community choir. It's a group of about 100 that sings with the symphony orchestra several times a year as a part of the organization "Music in the Mountains". We've been to a few of the concerts. Very high quality. The original (founding) director for both the orchestra and choir retired a couple of months ago after, like, 27 years or so. While they haven't yet replaced the conductor's position, they've split off the choir director's job and hired a young man (26 years old!) to lead the choral group.
I had thought about trying out for the chorale as early as a couple of years before we moved. Just looked like fun to sing some different kind of music with a large group. And, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to join in, (plus, I HAVE missed singing, since we moved, haven't I?). While I had (and still have, if I'm honest) some reservations about the weekly commitment and beyond (some of which is still a mystery to me), the biggest hesitation I had turned out to be the dreaded Audition.
I haven't had to audition for anything since I was in college. Robert Shaw. Scary business. Never mind that I've sung in many kinds of groups, before and since, and have read music for nearly all my life--still, I almost couldn't face it. I put off the decision to try out until the afternoon of the audition evening. Finally, I called and got a 9pm slot. I went by myself to the church in Grass Valley and tried to remain nonchalant-looking as I waited outside. Hmm. Nice stained glass. Good leading technique. When it was my turn to meet Ryan (child director), my brain turned to mush (what IS my name?) and when he put some sheet music in front of me, it was as though I'd never seen such a thing in my life. What ARE these funny little black dots, I wondered (not aloud, fortunately)?
I went home very sure that I should just put that little episode and any thoughts of joining the Festival Choir out of my head. Oh, well. At least I had stuck my head above the surface a little bit. How brave of me! I'd done the scary thing and survived.
I'd nearly forgotten about the whole unpleasant business, when I check my cell phone on Tuesday afternoon (nearly a week later) and there was a message from Ryan that invited me to sing with the group and to report for practice the next evening (Wednesday) at 7. Last night.
I must say that the best part was not having been rejected, though it makes me wonder if he was tired and maybe a little deaf at the time of my tryout. Anyway, I went. And it was quite the happy experience. There must be only 10 or 12 new folks, like me, and one woman said that we stood out since so many of the members have been a part of the group for many years--some since the beginning. I sat with another woman-first-tenor like me, who, along with her husband (who sings like Pavarotti), have been there 22 years. All friendly folks, and, seemingly, all crack sight readers. Yikes! I'm gonna have to scrape some of the rust off in order to keep up.
It's a beautiful sound, so many voices! Ryan is a first rate director. And I now have experienced the second harbinger of Christmas. The first was at Costco last Friday, where I saw the ribbon and tree ornaments set out. Last night, it was all the Christmas music we were singing, from stunning latin chorales by Saint Saens to White Christmas. All challenging. And fun.
Am I on the slippery slope to over-commitment? Well, not yet, I guess. But Tom has just signed up for a local Sierra College class (six weeks on Thursday nights) to learn about stars and such (of which we have quite a lot, around here).
Seems that little pop I heard a week ago was the sound of our shell cracking open just a bit. Plus now I guess I'd better get something black to wear.
