For the past two weeks, I rehearsed with an incredibly talent group of people in preparation for a concert/show at our local community theatre. Years ago -- pre-COVID, pre-doctoral program -- I seemed to live at the theatre, directing, acting, teaching. Then, as I made the decision to go back to school, I had to make some tough choices about the way I spent my time. I stepped away from theatre at my school and at the community theatre.
Now, as I am finishing up my dissertation and some flexibility has re-entered my schedule, I am able to include things simply for fun and joy. Being part of the "All Together Now" concert was one of those things. The concert, conceived by Music Theatre International, consisted of a set list of songs that would be performed by "5,500 community theatres in over 40 countries and territories across the world," according to my welcome speech. Yep, that's right. I haven't performed in what? 5 years? and I was given the opening number ("Pure Imagination" from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory), which included the welcome speech.
Did I mention the director is a good friend and should have been nicer to me? (Just kidding, Seth.)
I auditioned for the show because it was a minimal commitment -- I prepared 5 songs in about 2 weeks. On paper, this looked great. In real life, it was a bit like signing up for a 5K and training 3 times before the race. While I've been singing around the house and at church on occasion, I have not been singing, singing. Like for real singing. This was a total jerk move on my part, to treat my voice like this, and I've since apologized.
During the short rehearsal period, my youngest son came down with a bad cold (like the kind you get a COVID test for -- fortunately negative), I submitted 90 pages of my dissertation to my committee, and I was swamped at work. You get the idea.
As the show got closer, my voice got weaker. I was exhausted and congested, drinking hot tea by the gallon. My song should have showcased the upper part of my range, which is usually a strong point for me. Usually.
Long story short, by the second night of the show, I had no real control over what came out of my mouth. I started my song and my voice cracked. I made the choice to speak-sing the rest of the song, smiling all the while. It . . . worked. It wasn't what was written, it wasn't what I am capable of doing, but it worked. I had such fun working with this group of people. I am proud of what we were able to accomplish in such a short time, and it reminded me how much I miss theatre and performing.
It also reminded me of why I changed my major from Vocal Performance to English/Education. The voice can be such an unpredictable instrument. Sure, if I were singing every day, training vocally, I wouldn't have the fatigue issues. But still, colds come, sinus infections arrive unannounced, drainage takes notes hostage. Now, of course I know that I need to exercise my voice more often if I plan on making demands of it. I also know that we can only control what we can control. I am so glad that I don't have that kind of anxiety in my daily life, and I so admire professional singers.
What's more, I admire 41-year-old Denise. In her 20s, Denise would have agonized over the fact that her voice wasn't perfect for the performances. Actually, she would have agonized over much more minor flaws. She probably would have cried. Multiple times.
41-year-old Denise took it in stride. She accepted that there was absolutely nothing to be done about what happened to her voice, she delivered the message to the audience and had fun with it. Mission accomplished.
One of the songs I sang in the ensemble was "When I Grow Up" from Matilda. The kids in the song were amazing, and the woman who sang the part of Miss Honey became one of my new favorite people. We all teared up at the end, when Miss Honey and Matilda finished the song -- real life mother and daughter. The song speaks of all the great things that happen when we grow up -- we are strong, brave, independent. Children tend not to see the responsibilities that come with being an adult -- having to be strong, brave, independent. Sure, we are "strong enough to carry all the heavy things you have to haul around with you when you're a grown up," but, we have to haul all those heavy things around in the first place.
Growing older gets a bit of a bad rap, but honestly, I'd take 40 over 20 any day. Let's face it, the voice cracks of life will happen. We just have to take them in stride and have fun anyway.
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