Singing In A New Place

As I said in a previous blog, our choir has really increased in size over the last few seasons, and we are nearly full. At the rehearsal on Sunday Lynne announced that with the confirmed new members we are running at maximum capacity for the tenors and sopranos, and are just a few off filling the altos and basses. I keep revisiting the issue because it is really wonderful: the current group is just manageable in terms of getting to know everyone, but more importantly we are beginning to sound really warm and rich.

Ironically, none of the new tenors could attend this last rehearsal, so I ended up chatting with some of the new basses and a new soprano in the break. As ever, being in the tenor section means that the altos are physically the most remote of the sections, and getting to know them on the far side of the rehearsal space always proves to be problematic! I’m sure they feel the same about the tenors.

One implication of the larger choir is that we have outgrown our previous rehearsal space at the Royal Academy of Music. In the last few weeks I have noticed that we are not only bursting the rooms at the seams, the venues have taken on a decidedly unpleasant whiffiness, the result of sixty lungs breathing in and out in a confined space for four hours no doubt. Not the place for hypochondriacs!

So this week we went back to one of our older rehearsal venues, the Place. It is a dreadful name which can lead to silly conversations like, “Where are we rehearsing?” “The Place”, “Which place?”, “You know, the Place!”, “No, I don’t know what place we are rehearsing at, that’s why I’m asking you!” Ugh.

Anyway, the Place (definite article, capital “P”) is nominally a dance studio by day with beautifully sprung floors, and, as we discovered, decidedly warm central heating with windows which cannot be opened. My other relatively minor complaint was having to see myself in the full-length wall-to-wall mirrors during warm up. I like to delude myself that I look effortless when reaching the high notes, and do not need a reminder of how contorted my face actually appears.

In the end, the dance studio proved to be especially useful for the blokes as we started our choreography practice for I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair and ABBA Pink. Lynne had already sent her warning to wear socks with no holes, but few unfortunately, heeded Jo’s comment about loose leg warmers. The rooms are surrounded by warm-up bars which I presume dancers gracefully swing their legs up on to in a Jennifer Beale moment. Johnathon gave us a demo with a little less elegance, but which was achievable for him because he is so tall. Being somewhat shorter, Sue and I decided that it was not worth taking the risk of dislocating our hips for. We all need a whole lot more practice with the dance moves!

So, this season is bedding down nicely. Can’t wait for Paris!