Jonathan Miller is out of town for the next two weeks. I’m Betsy Grizzell, Chicago A Cappella’s Alto 1.
I thought I’d talk about one of my favorite topics: Perfect Concerts. You know, the ones where the performers all dress the same, walk the same, look the same. Very Stepford. Very calculated. Someone obviously ordered up a glass curtain to make sure the audience is kept separate from the performance. Please! Wake me when it’s over and save me from the Glass Curtain!
In “Shockappella” rehearsals, we nitpick. We tune, we tweak, we discuss, we consult composers. We arrive early at each venue for a warm-up or acoustical rehearsal. We tweak some more, rearrange our stands, deepen our circle, face in, face out… We change into concert garb (don’t get me started on that one…why can’t girls wear tuxes?). We line up at the stage door. “Folders in your upstage hand. Walk briskly.” The door opens, the first singer begins to stride.
Invariably, someone at the end of the line whispers, “WAIT!” Invariably that first singer stops short before realizing it was just a joke. And should that whisper not come from behind, there’s sure to be a well-placed grab from behind as if to say, “Lighten up. We’re here for fun. We’re here to entertain.” We leave the Glass Curtain behind and take the stage.
The Glass Curtain is a funny thing. In some performances, it’s there the whole time. I find that uncomfortable, maybe even boring. In some performances it comes and goes. I like this, especially in our CAC concerts. When you’ve got a jazz chart in front of you, you’d better drop everything and let ‘er rip. If it’s a Palestrina Mass, you can afford a feeling of “Excuse us, folks, there’s something we want to do amongst ourselves.” I think the audience can appreciate a curtain that rises for a glimpse of 9 people having a great time, or falling for a sacred jewel.
I love having fun onstage, and I know (by way of our audience comment cards) that the audience feels our fun and joins in. But being the resident nit-picker’s nit-picker, I sometimes need someone to snap me out of my perfect perfection. Leave it to our men. There are certain of our singers who make it their mission to crack someone up during each concert with a whispered joke or an unexpectedly emphasized couple of well-chosen syllables. And there are certain of our singers who work extra hard when a warm-up rehearsal has produced a black cloud.
After one particularly dismal warm-up, the singers sat in the Green Room, cranky and glum. One of our guys stood and spoke to the group. “If any of you has ever been in the audience for one of our concerts, you know what a great concert we give. You know that the mistakes we make are not noticed by the audience. You know that the overall impression is wonderful. Let’s go out there and enjoy each other and the performance.” We took the stage, well boosted by his comments. Our first piece involved a lengthy scat solo by another of our guys. He ripped it up, no holds barred, in a shameless Louis Armstrong-esque style. Hysterical! We laughed so hard we barely made it through the piece. The audience ate it up. Better yet, it set a tone for a concert that sailed!
I especially like a 2-way curtain. I love it when the audience feels comfortable enough to shout from their seats, or to wait around afterwards to tell us what they thought of a piece, even if they hated it. That’s a performance that really means something. That’s a musical sharing that goes two ways. And I like our “Intro Speeches” in which each singer says a little something at some point in the concert. It lets the audience know who each of us is. It also gives the rest of us a chance to have a sip of water, share a chuckle (or a prayer!), and relax.
Perfection is something that is never achieved, even behind a fancy Glass Curtain. So why try? Better to share. Better to invite the audience into the same room to hear what we have to offer. To look them straight in the eye with a smile or a tear. Or to turn away just for a moment…don’t worry, we’ll be back. To ask them to tell us what they thought and to invite them back again.
Well, time to work on my Orange Colored Sky solo. God, please don’t let me sound like Burt Ward! Hope you’re enjoying Cancun, Jonathan. It’s 20 degrees here at home! Betsy Grizzell
Posted in
