Before the Feeling Fades
Today I go to my first Washington Opera rehearsal. I have wanted to get in consciously since I was a senior in College.
I vividly remember a fellow singer, who I didn’t think was very good though others liked his voice, say, “I think I will sing in the Washington Opera Chorus,” implying that after he graduated he would audition and get into the Washington Opera Chorus. I mentally scoffed at him thinking that it is incredibly competitive and it was naïve of him say he would sing with them rather than audition.
About a year later I auditioned for the chorus. I didn’t think I would get in, but I was expecting the next year or two to hopefully get in. They were very nice, asking if I was in school. I said I had just graduated and thought I might go back. I didn’t get in that year or merit further comment for the next three auditions.
Five auditions later, they once again asked if I had gone back to school. I once again said no, I had been studying privately. They said that the work definitely showed. And I got in.
I woke up this morning and I said, “I am singing with the Washington Opera.” This is a crazy dream where I have been kicking my own ass over and over trying not to get discouraged. It has been hard to go through the same audition process over and over and not make it. This was my year and I made it. I must remember this feeling when going to rehearsal becomes a pain and I am stand in the back of a clump of men. It is a feather in my cap, a Maltese Falcon on my mantle that I can point to. I don’t need to be a star, but I am good. I am in fact a great singer. I am in the Washington National Opera Chorus.
I vividly remember a fellow singer, who I didn’t think was very good though others liked his voice, say, “I think I will sing in the Washington Opera Chorus,” implying that after he graduated he would audition and get into the Washington Opera Chorus. I mentally scoffed at him thinking that it is incredibly competitive and it was naïve of him say he would sing with them rather than audition.
About a year later I auditioned for the chorus. I didn’t think I would get in, but I was expecting the next year or two to hopefully get in. They were very nice, asking if I was in school. I said I had just graduated and thought I might go back. I didn’t get in that year or merit further comment for the next three auditions.
Five auditions later, they once again asked if I had gone back to school. I once again said no, I had been studying privately. They said that the work definitely showed. And I got in.
I woke up this morning and I said, “I am singing with the Washington Opera.” This is a crazy dream where I have been kicking my own ass over and over trying not to get discouraged. It has been hard to go through the same audition process over and over and not make it. This was my year and I made it. I must remember this feeling when going to rehearsal becomes a pain and I am stand in the back of a clump of men. It is a feather in my cap, a Maltese Falcon on my mantle that I can point to. I don’t need to be a star, but I am good. I am in fact a great singer. I am in the Washington National Opera Chorus.