Chorale and Women's Choir

I arrive at the Cultural Life Center at Roberts a good fifteen minutes before the concert. The parking lot is not overly full, and I park close. No sense walking far in the rain. I pop open my small music print umbrella my Mother gave me one Christmas and head for the auditorium. Fellow concert goers nod politely, hurrying to avoid too much wetness.

The hall is comfortably filled. I pick a seat on the right side of the front section, a row half occupied already, and settle into the aisle seat. Glancing around, I see familiar faces, happy conversation, friends meeting, families sitting together. It is a gentle ambiance.

The women's choir enters from the front of the auditorium and takes the first four or five rows of seats. They want to hear the Chorale before they sing. They are beautiful in their concert black, hair done up, colorful makeup, high heel clacking on the floor. A hush settles over the crowd. We wait.

I expect the welcome announcement, but instead, there is a swooshing of dresses as the women of the Chorale make their way on stage, followed by the men from the opposite side of the platform. Heels clomp on wooden floor, singers stepping up or down the single riser until everyone is in place. Then a pause, and Dr. McGhee enters to applause.

The pianist is already in place. He gives a single pitch. Dr. McGhee raises his arms in expectation, and looks across the span of singers. All are ready. They watch. We watch. And then the downbeat. Sound floods the air as sixty voices unite, drawing us on a journey of sound and memories and emotions. I have conducted the Frostiana "Choose Something Like a Star" and I know how difficult it is to tune, how challenging to make the lines Say Something. The intensity builds. They take us well over the top, urging us to feel their angst. It is good.

The women's choir presents us with a bright palate of pieces from many cultures in many languages. It is pungent, exhilarating, fun. A good change from the Chorale's first half. The women love what they are singing. Their faces shine, especially when they are singing the tough stuff, and doing it well. They know it. We know it. We all grin with joy.

Chorale returns, bringing a nice mix of spirituals and contemplative musics. I had come to the concert tired, a bit weary from unfolding events at work. I wanted to just stay home and rest. But I knew many of the singers and I did not want to miss their offering, so I went despite the tiredness. As the concert drew to a close, I realized that they had sung me happy. I felt better, less tucked out. I was smiling. How refreshing to be uplifted in such a pleasant way at the end of a long week.

They should definitely do it again, and often!