This blog entry comes "hot off the press" or "hot from the studio" from guest blogger Betsy Grizzell, a longtime mezzo-soprano with Chicago a cappella. She writes:
Chicago a cappella comes alive in front of an audience. Audiences regularly comment on how we seem so accessible and at ease. From the stage, we talk to them, we joke, we look them in the eye. But there's none of that at a recording session! Just unforgiving technology and a critical ear in the booth.
One of the hardest things about recording is the strain on the voice. A nighttime session means you're coming from whatever it is you do during the day (teaching, "regular job", wrangling infant twins...) into a demanding, every-mistake-is-recorded-for-posterity gig. Last week was the first session for our current CD project, and at least half of us were sick. And the blowers for heat were loud, so they had to be turned off. So now we're tired, sick, and shivering, trying to sing shimmery soft passages. We managed two shimmery pieces, and moved on to maybe our toughest piece of the whole project, Carol Barnett's Hodie. Hodie starts very softly, and gradually gets louder and louder, higher and higher, with a relentless tempo. Exhausting. If you're sick, you might start losing your ability to phonate on some pitches. Or that floaty E you've always had sinks like the Titanic. So you figure out how to make it happen. Kathryn Kamp & I often swap parts when her soprano passaggio is raw and my alto break is wasted. Susan Shcober will oomph her volume to help cover my dead zone, and I might hum along with her to help when she's tired.
Voices from the control booth comment on our every mistake, constructively of course. And we comment to each other: "I think that note is a little under." "Aren't we all supposed to breathe there?" "Remember that last You Tube video??" We're never too tired to share a good laugh!
Late in the night we hit one of those goosebump moments Jonathan talked about in his last blog. There's a particular point of arrival in the Hodie. For the first time, we not only hit it with conviction, but the musical gods smiled, at least for my standmate, Susan, and I. It's always nice to be reminded of why we make music, even when the job part of it is tedious and tiring.
A note about that disembodied voice in the control booth: Patrick Sinozich, our music director, is the best! He has a wonderful ear. He is patient, though not beyond smacking us when we need it. And he's a great cheerleader ("It sounds incredible. You're wonderful. But just one more time with a smile.") At 10:15 pm, we really need that!
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