I am an introvert, an introvert that thrives on the solitary creative process.  So, being at home for all of these months has been a gift to me.  I’ve had the time and energy to do the things I love to do as well as dabble in some new to me forms of creative expression.  The one place, however, where I prefer being with others rather than going solo, literally, and that I do miss, is making music.  Playing or singing with an ensemble has always brought me more joy, and much less stress, than being a solo performer.  

Social distancing, maintaining  six-feet between ourselves and another person is the norm for all of us Right now.  But, studies have suggested that when people are singing, that distance needs to be at least doubled.  With this, it is clear that the performing arts will not return to “normal” for a long time.  For the safety of performers and audiences, who cannot safely gather in concert halls and theaters, new and creative means of sharing the arts are being employed.  Virtual performances are now the norm.

The technology that allows performers to come together virtually to create music is nothing short of a miracle in my mind.  To those enjoying the final product, it may seem like any other recorded performance, but to those coming together from all across the country to create the music, it is a whole new ballgame.

In addition to performances being cancelled all over the world, large conferences have been cancelled as well.  I was supposed to attend the NOAH (National Organization for Albinism and Hypopigmentation) conference this July in Anaheim, California.  This is a biennial conference, an opportunity to see friends with whom I share the genetic condition of albinism.  One of the conference highlights for me is participating in the conference choir with some of these friends.  Though we only sing together every two years and only perform one song during the conference closing session, this coming together and making music to share with the community is a meaningful and powerful moment.  Obviously with the conference not happening, the NOAH Choir wouldn’t be happening either.

Thanks to technology, however, , it was decided that s scaled-down version of the NOAH conference could be offered online.  With that, my very talented friend, Marleena Barber, and her husband volunteered to take on the task of creating a Virtual NOAH Choir.  Here is a quick description of what that looks like…from a single singer’s perspective, not from that of the team of Marleena and her husband Marc who are editing and creating the final product, which is a whole other process!

Once each of the singers committed to the project, we were given by our fearless leader a link to the original recording of the song, a copy of the score, a document with the lyrics, a rehearsal track…and a couple of weeks to learn and record our parts.

The song we are doing is from the musical Dear Evan Hansen, which I was lucky enough to see last spring before the world came to a screeching halt.  So, I was familiar with the song, but I didn’t know it like a performer needs to know it.  Like the other thirty plus singers, I spent time learning the words and music…not in a familiar rehearsal setting; but rather, all by myself.  I don’t know why that felt strange, but it did.  As a clarinetist by profession, I have spent lots and lots of time in tiny rooms practicing alone.  Maybe the strange feelings came from knowing that after learning my part I would not have the opportunity to come together with the other singers and make music side by side.

Instead, we each did a video recording of our individual parts and sent them to Marleena to be layered together into a whole choir sound.  The recording process was another very strange experience for me, one that, even after being involved in music for over fifty years, I had never experienced.  It involved playing the rehearsal track on my iPad and listening through headphones and doing the video recording with my phone.  Once I got my headphones connected to the correct device, the recording logistics were fairly simple…as long as I managed to hit both record on my phone and play on my iPad.  We won’t talk about the take where I sang the entire song and then realized that I had not actually hit record.

The hardest part of making the recording was finding a place where there were no extraneous or ambient sounds.  When faced with such a task, you realize just how noise-filled your world really is.  With three dogs at our house, the odds of barking happening during seven minutes or so of recording is pretty good.  We also live on the flight path for both of the Dallas airports.  Even though air traffic is less right now thanks to the pandemic, planes still fly over more often than I realized.  Then there are the sounds from the air conditioning and ceiling fans, and even lights that have a hum.  Oh, and we also won’t talk about the very first time I tried to record and forgot to turn the notifications off on my iPad.  Yeah, my buzzing iPad against the music stand was not a pretty sound.  That lesson was learned quickly.

While I was recording, Weber took the dogs outside into the backyard.  The only place in our house where I Was sure I could record without picking up them if they decided to bark was in the laundry room.  They all Dutifully headed outside and I turned off the air conditioning and ceiling fans and rendez-voused with the Tide pods.  On the day that I did this, it was 97 degrees in Dallas and the heat index was over 100.  Those failed attempts that I mentioned above were a waste of precious time.  Just saying.

So there I was, in the laundry room, headphones in, rehearsal track playing, and video recorder rolling (all but that one time) trying to sing like I was standing with a full choir.  Oh and did I mention that we also were in concert dress so that we look like a unified group once all is said and done?   Funny thing…when it comes to dressing for a “live concert,” my biggest concern is always which shoes to wear.  They need to look nice but also be comfortable enough to stand in for often more than an hour.  This time, I looked professional from the chest up, but was wearing my Birkenstocks.  I may have even taken them off and been barefoot at one point.  This was the best part of this process!  I could get behind concert dress that involves Birkenstocks on stage!

I managed to get the recording done.  Was it perfect?  Nope.  But, it was the best that was going to happen under the circumstances.  I have to admit that there was a little comfort in knowing that if there was something here or there that wasn’t quite right, it could be edited out.  

The irony of this whole process was that the song from Dear Evan Hansen that we were recording was “You Will Be Found.”  The line, “you are not alone” is repeated throughout the song.  Hmm…I sure felt alone as I was singing to my phone…and the washer and dryer!

Now That all of that is over, it is wait until early July to hear the engineered version, when all of our voices are layered together, when we are all found and no one is alone any longer.

Performers across the world are struggling right now.  Broadway has been dark for months.  Orchestras and ensembles have cancelled their seasons.  However, many artists are coming together, just like our choir did, to do the best they can to bring the arts to the world virtually.  They too are recording from home, navigating the same difficulties that I did.  All the considerations and effort that went into accomplishing less than seven minutes of recording has given me a greater appreciation for the efforts that so many performers are giving to sustaining their art during these weird times.  I hope that as you hear and/or see their performances, you are now aware of some of what was involved to make it happen.  It definitely requires team work on everyone’s part…and a talented sound engineer!