Changing Experiences

I had an experience in Women's Chorus last night.  Well, I had a lot of experiences, but I also  had an experience that I have never had before.  Let me set up the scene: My choir has been working hard all semester.  They are singing over twice the amount of music than they normally do and the music is some of the toughest music some of them have ever sung.  It certainly is some of the toughest music the Women's Chorus has ever done.  We are premiering a piece that is 9 minutes long.  It's tough.  And one thing I worry about is that the music they are more familiar with is "old" to them.  It can be difficult to keep energy and love in music that someone gets used to.  So close to the end of rehearsal, when the women are exhausted after thinking hard and singing a lot (not to mention it's a Monday night at 9:30 PM), we pulled out a piece they were very familiar with.  In fact, they have sung it at a concert before.  They start on a unison note and and give a slight, slow crescendo.  The first time they did it, it was fine.  In fact, to be honest, many conductors would probably not ask them to make it better- because most conductor's are nicer and won't make their singers work hard throughout all of the almost 3 hour long rehearsal.  But I asked them to do it again and to bring the dynamic level back, to compress their sound but keep the same intensity.  And they did it.  And it was so unbelievably moving.  I have sung in groups and been moved.  I have listened to live concerts of other groups and been moved.  I have been in front of my group and been proud of their singing, and even impressed with their singing.  But I have never stood in front of a group I am conducting and been so moved.  In that one simple note, that one commitment to good singing, that one expressive moment... it was so beautiful.

How did it happen? I think it comes from multiple things.  An audience cannot be moved simply by soulful singing.  Singing just because you love it with no other guiding factor often makes for a sloppy performance especially in a choir.  But if you focus just on technique, the music has no heart. What happened in that moment, when I was so moved on this unison note blossoming to the next higher dynamic level... what happened is that the women were supporting their sounding, they were listening to their "sisters" and singing the same note while aligning their vowel, they intentionally had a beautiful color, and they sang with passion, with intentionality.  And it was stunning.  If everything else in the choir is "good," but we still have that stunning moment, I will be pleased.  I wish all of you could have heard it.  Everyone deserves to have those moments.  Because everyone deserves to hear good music.

I thought that change would get easier as I aged.  I have never been afraid of change.  In fact, I have often been excited about change and barreled head first into it.  My mom has often mentioned how much I jam in my life and how many plans I have for it.  In a way, I thin one of the reasons I love John is because he is opposite of me in that way- while he will keep himself busy, he will also slow down and take time when he needs to.  He will say, "I need to stay in this weekend."  My dearest and longest friend, Heather, is also similar.  Until I married John, she had been my connection to "tradition."  She values routine and tradition, having consistent friends in a stable area.  When I need to remind myself of "me," she was the person I connected with.  John also provides that same sense of being grounded.  He values tradition and is not always a huge fan of change.  As I said at the beginning of this paragraph, I have always welcomed change.  But as excited as I was to start my masters, moving out this far was a little bit harder than my move to Wisconsin from Arizona.  Every move has been a little tougher.  I now know that, despite good intentions, I won't stay in touch with most of my friends.  I believe there will be a small number I will- and mainly because we are connected through our profession.  I am sitting in my favorite coffee shop, and I know I have a limited number of visits.  I like my coffee shop.  It is so very special to me.  I have spent so much time here studying and working.  I like running on the beach.  I like the social things I have done this year (much more than last year and even my time in Madison- when I had the smallest amount of friends nearby than I have had at any other point in my life).  I am extremely excited about our move to Iowa.  I look forward to starting my DMA program.  I look forward to exploring California in the next few weeks.  I will be so happy to be closer to family and many of my Midwest friends.  But moving away from my friends here- when I think about how likely it is I won't see most of these wonderful people again- is difficult.  

I think one of the reasons leaving here will be so difficult is because I have made music with many of them.  And it was good music.  When you truly form that community, it is tough to leave.  

I have been very lucky.  I have good people in my life.  It is so odd to feel so excited about something, yet so sad to see my current situation end.  I would not want to stay here, I don't think.  Life would change and I do not see life changing in a way that would be extremely fulfilling to stay here.  

The point is... change is just as real as it was when I was younger, but I seem to understand the realities of it a little better.  It's good and it's sad.  But if I was not bummed to leave, then it would have meant my time here was not well spent.