The Work Begins

The past 3 days have been like the audition that would not end. On Friday, after a brief wander amongst the lovely buildings of the Yale campus and dinner at what can only be described as the uncivilized hour of 5.30, we split into groups to run the song we would sing in the first phase of boot camp. Each of us was to pick something that best typified our work thus far, something with which we were entirely comfortable. The faculty (all 15 of them) and the students (38 in total) would observe and comment - the students in writing and the faculty vocally.

What to sing? If I were to follow the instructions, my choice might be an Ave Verum, an Ave Maria, a fraction anthem...or, maybe, something a bit more modern - Hopson's The Gift of Love? I don't think so. Something from one of my favorite composers (NDR?). No. I picked something from my slim repertoire of 5 previously performed non-sacred pieces and, after running it twice with my gifted accompanist and incorporating a key change and the helpful comments of the six fellow-students who form my ''performance technique group', I called it a night. I was not entirely sure I'd made the best choice, but I was sure it was something I could do even in my sleep...and I did...all night long.

Day 2 kicked off at 9. Each singer had 10 minutes to run patter and sing their song, hear the comments of the faculty, and run a second time as much of their number as the remaining time permitted. As the hours sped by, I heard some great music, beautiful voices and hysterical patter. I also heard some wonderful instructions and helpful advice. I sang last, just around 5.30. It had been a long day. Was it my proudest musical moment? No, that would still have to be the time I was chosen to play last in Mrs. Meyer's piano recital. But...the floor didn't open up and swallow me up. I didn't forget my lines or sing the wrong notes. I didn't go off-pitch or close my eyes. I got through it (even without the previously agreed key change). And, as a church singer more used to a little black sack than a little black dress, more used to intoning than writing the patter, and far more used to doing it from behind than face to face, I was glad to have taken another step forward, rather than giving in to the urge to run out the door as my name was called.

Saturday night, we were treated to performances by the legendary Julie Wilson...God give me another 35 years of chops and the unrelenting desire to use them!...and the incomparable Tovah Feldshuh. Sunday, the remaining 1/3 of the students ran the gauntlet and the sense of relief was palpable. We'd all made it. There had been tears and great laughter, lost lines and mangled lines, but we were all in line, for it was lunch time, and the show would continue its run.

The afternoon included a session with the amazing Carol Hall and a lengthy discussion on ''the business''. In the evening, we again enjoyed the gifted faculty's many talents, both inspiring and studded with stress's biggest enemy - laughter.

Today the work begins. In addition to a panel discussions with the music directors, and a couple of lectures, we meet in our small groups with three faculty members for two three-hour master classes. Today, I'm with Julie Wilson, Erv Raible, & Michael Joviala and this evening with Shelly Markahm, Jason Graae and Sally Mayes. The day starts at 9 and ends at 10.30. This is definitely not an exercise for the faint of heart. xxoo