Yesterday I did a thing. A big thing.
I auditioned for a conservatory choir at a city university. Haven’t sung in a choir for 25 years. Wasn’t exactly a pro even then.
But I did it. With the support of our Middle and her cousin, who came along to cheer me on, I auditioned in front of two grad student conductors and an accompanist. Solo on “My Country ‘Tis of Thee,” vocal excercise, and pitch matching.
How did it go? Well, I didn’t embarrass myself, so I’ll call it a win. First rehearsal is Thursday evening.
Middle begged me all summer to join the choir with her. It’s the only local choir that fits into her schedule and will also take a newb like me.
I’m excited to go back to singing excellent classical music with real musicians, after all these years. But…oh, so many worries…
What if I can’t keep up? What if I’ve forgotten everything? What if I bring down the whole choir? How will I drag myself out of our warm, cozy house for rehearsals on cold, dark, winter nights? How will I find a black, floor length gown for concerts that won’t make me look so huge I’ll be confused for the grand piano?
Then again, it will be a special project together with our darling Middle. With her 11 years of classical voice training she can coach me though the rough spots. And…oh, the exquisite joy of making beautiful music with a chorus of transported voices!
I’m scared to death. And I can’t wait.