Leadership

“The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit.” Thomas Malory

I had big plans for May 2020, BIG PLANS.

On May 1, I was to be singing with my Alumni Chorus (along with the Kiddos in the Conservatory Chorus and Orchestra), performing my favorite large choral work of all time, Stravinsky’s “Symphony of Psalms.” Rehearsals had begun in late January and it had already been a WONDERFUL experience. Dr. Cheryl Frazes Hill was insightful, fun and I was learning so much. Rehearsals continued through February and the first of the Alum rehearsals in March would be in mid-March, due to a conflicting concert in the Conservatory as well as their Spring Break.

We began rehearsals for my chamber choir the second week of March and those first two rehearsals showed such promise for good things this concert cycle; I was so delighted! You know what happened after that.

Throughout the month of May, I was to have rehearsals in preparation for my chamber choir’s May 31 concert. I help organize professional development after-hours cocktail networking for an arts alliance I work with and May 20 was to have been the date for one such event this spring. There were various other rehearsals, sessions, coffee and lunch meetings already set up. And of, course, they never happened. Every time I looked at the calendar, it was to notice something which did NOT occur, but after the fact.

I feel especially dragged out and “blah” this week. It wasn’t until I looked at the date and realized this was to be our concert week I understood why. I should have been writing program notes, running to get things printed, making sure pianos were tuned, either being crabby or giddy and serving frozen pizza to my family. Those normal things for me during a concert week are not happening and my heart remembered, even if I did not.

So, folks, I am going with it, letting myself grieve or mourn or whatever we call this strange emotion of emptiness for all those events we’ve missed because of COVID-19. If I KNEW our fall concert would occur, perhaps I wouldn’t feel this way, but everything is in such flux, it’s hard to know. I’ve decided to wash windows and curtains this week, so I will be productive, and let myself feel what I feel while I do it.

Many of you are in similar circumstances; you are grieving (mourning—can someone come up with a better name for this?) all those concerts and recitals you were supposed to do which did not, or will not, happen. So, feel what you feel; these are honest and legitimate emotions in these circumstances. As the dates fly by, let yourself regret not being able to do what you do.

I plan to watch the latest webinar given by our Vocal Arts Leaders after my concert date. Perhaps what they offer will bring us all hope as to what we CAN DO in the near future. But right now, I need to keep busy and productive to get through the next few days; thinking about the future can wait.

Until next week, be well.

I am taking my Choral Ethics Blogs to my chamber choir’s Facebook page for the foreseeable future. Please join me there this morning!

“Follow your honest convictions and be strong.” William Makepeace Thackeray

I miss my choir; Kari, Deb and Marcella, my sopranos. And I miss Cindy (not really an alto but sings alto for me) and Althea, my altos. I miss Emile my sturdy tenor and I was just getting to know Bob, my new baritone. Ben, my assistant, accompanist and baritone, is also my son, so he’s sheltering-in-place at home with us. But I miss talking to him about rehearsals or future repertoire and ideas I have about the Midwest Motet Society.

I miss making music with them and rehearsing around my dining room table. I miss working on a difficult passage and GETTING IT. I miss perfecting something and planning future concerts and community performances. I miss laughing and sharing my singers’ joys and struggles. In short, I miss EVERYTHING about singing in, and directing, a choir.

I know, I am luckier than most. My chamber choir is more adaptable to the guidelines our choral leaders have suggested than other, larger groups. Since I usually have between eight and fifteen singers and rehearse in my own home most of the time, social distancing during rehearsals could be possible. My spouse is a physician and has offered to take temperatures and collect vitals of folks as they come into rehearsal. If I chose repertoire with social distancing during rehearsals AND concerts in mind, we might be able to have our November 1 concert. And the concert, itself, might be adaptable either with the audience social distancing or recording it, and then streaming it somewhere. Then again, perhaps all these things could still hold true for next spring, when life might be closer to what we have known as “normal.”

These ideas are just random thoughts I’ve had as I’ve tried to digest what the near-future of singing and my own group will look like. I am numb and not thinking as clearly as I usually do. I need to run these ideas by my singers; if they don’t feel comfortable, there is no sense trying to make it work.

We’re all in the same boat, aren’t we? And all trying to figure out how near-to-normal we can be.

For the last few weeks, the text of an old hymn from my childhood keeps going round and round and ROUND my head. It was an unusual one; more fight song than a traditional hymn. The text was written by Reverend Maltbie D. Babcock and published in 1901 in a collection of poems entitled “Thoughts for Every-Day Living.” The tune is attributed to the English composer, Orlando Gibbons.

The words have often come to me during periods of difficulty in my life, a reminder of my very Protestant upbringing. And of the Protestant work ethic ingrained in me; work hard, take what is thrown at you and then make the best of it.

It has always been the first verse that comes to me with its message to accept struggles and look at them as a gift.

Be strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle, face it, ’tis God’s gift.

Be strong, be strong!

As I was doing research for this blog, I found the texts of the other verses I had forgotten about. The second verse is especially apropos to our present Pandemic situation. It says it doesn’t matter why or how we struggle, we should not throw up our hands and give up. We must be brave and continue on. I think that’s an important way to look at things now; we should NOT give up but do what we need to do so we are able to carry on, after.

Be strong!
Say not the days are evil— who’s to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce— O shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God’s Name.

Be strong, be strong!

The third and final verse is more hopeful. It doesn’t matter how difficult or how long it takes, don’t give up; at the end comes the song.

Be strong!
It matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day, how long;
Faint not, fight on! Tomorrow comes the song.

Be strong, be strong!

So my Dear ChoralNetters, Be Strong! Fight on and let’s figure out how we can persevere and survive. Our songs at the end will be worth it.

Until next week, be strong–and be well.

I am taking my Choral Ethics Blogs to my chamber choir’s Facebook page for the foreseeable future. Please join me there this morning!