TCATS #405 - In Full Swing

The Tabernacle Choir is certainly back in full swing! Next Sunday will be our first Music & the Spoken Word live broadcast (since for forever ago) and we spent time this week not only working on memorizing music for THAT, but also music for the next broadcast to air in two weeks. With several brand new songs, some swanky new arrangements, and some traditional fan favorites, the next couple of broadcasts will surely not disappoint!  And if working on those upcoming broadcasts wasn't enough, we spent about 50 minutes today recording a track that will be part of an overall soundtrack for an upcoming film about Christ.

All in all, a full morning.

In working on memorizing some of the songs this past week, there were several sets of lyrics that stood out to me. But there's one in particular I'd like to comment on. 

"We thank thee Lord for this new day.
For night wherein we found thy way."

When I first sang this phrase, I was a bit mystified as to why someone would find their way in the night. Shouldn't we find our way in the light? We're always talking about the "light of Christ" or equating truth with light and I wasn't quite sure what to think about this reference to night, instead. But then the light went on (ha!) and I realized that actually, it's usually during our dark times (or times of "night") that we come to recognize our need for the light. It's at those times we have the opportunity to reach out and take Christ's hand--since He's always reaching out to take ours. And little by little, we find our way back. Back to not only where we were before, but to a place that's actually a little bit better. The best thing during those experiences is how bright and peaceful and clarifying the light can be. 

Now...a few odds and ends:

*the Choir's party committee (yes, we have one of those) announced today that there would not be, for the 2nd year in a row, a Christmas party that we traditionally have after the Christmas Concert.

*the seating managers for the Choir (choosing who sits where and next to who), David and Deb Gehris, were released from their callings today, and were replaced by former Choir member Randy Jensen and his wife. This was quite a significant change since the Gehris' have been in the calling for many years now. Thanks to them for all of their years of service.

*the Choir plans to start using the teleprompter more. Like, for every broadcast. One might think this is sort of "cheating" (if I was not in the Choir, I'd be tempted to think that!). But here's the thing. Up until now, most of our broadcasts have been a combination of singing one or two memorized songs, with the rest just singing from the actual sheet music. For those non-memorized songs, choir members would constantly be looking down at their music and then up at the director--which means that for much of the time, those watching the broadcast wouldn't be able to see into the eyes of the singers as much. Mack is really adamant that we start having choir members get more eye-to-eye time on camera. He feels (as do many choir members, I'd think) that seeing into people's eyes is an important part of communicating the message we're singing about. So... one way to accomplish that is through a teleprompter. So it's really a win-win (and a step-up). And keep in mind that just because the teleprompter gives us the words, we still have to have the music near-memorized both in rhythm and in notes. So in the process of doing that, we almost get the words anyway. The prompter just gives us that occasional word or two that might slip our minds. 

With all of that said, my friends, it's a wrap for the blog today. As Mack said this morning, the best times of the Choir are ahead of us. And I'm glad YOU are taking that journey forward, with us, as supporting listeners. 

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #404 - A Play-by-Play

My alarm went off at 5:30am and I groggily shaved, showered, dressed, and had some breakfast. I then said a quick prayer after which I made sure I had everything I needed: my security badge, my name badge, my folder of music, keys, wallet, a water bottle, and today, my laptop--since my job required me to be on-call today to handle any customer escalations that may happen. 

Into the car and out onto main street to drive into the Conference Center. Suddenly I remember something i forgot--a mask! Back to the house, grabbed my favorite accessory, got back into the car and continued my journey. I thought about listening to some music on the way in, but didn't know exactly what to listen to, so I decided to just enjoy the silence and pondered on what today's experience would bring. 

Arrived at the Conference Center at 6:40, got out of my car, and met Ben who was just getting out of his. We greeted each other and walked towards the designated entrance. On the way, we met Wes and we chatted a bit about a few things going on in our lives before we had to split up and go to our individual designated covid testing station. 

I grabbed a number--24--and found a seat to sit in which was socially distanced from others. While waiting for them to all my number, my friend Greg sat a couple seats next to me and we had a good discussion about the topic of being a parent and how God loves our children infinitely more than we love them. And because He loves them so much, He will thus take care of them in conjunction with our own efforts. 

My number was called and I sat in the designated seat, pulled down my mask, and let one of our in-house resident medical professional administer the covid test by swabbing both nostrils. I got up, found my previous seat, and waited for the test results.

After about 15 min, I received my colored sticker (today's color was orange) and attached it to my name tag so I could be easily identified as covid-negative. Gathered up my things and made my way to the "bunker" where we sometimes congregate before performances and where the men now have their dressing room. Today there was no need to get into choir attire as we were only rehearsing, but I needed to get refitted for my black suit and the wardrobe committee was making themselves available before and after rehearsal for that purpose. So since there was still 20 min before rehearsal started, I thought I'd take advantage and get the refitting done. As it turned out, there were no more pants in my size to exchange with, so I took the nearest size available and when the time came, I would just use my belt to make up the difference. 

After using the restroom, I made my way to the loft where I found my seat next to Steve and and Brad. And about three minutes after that, the rehearsal started and we removed our masks to warm-up. Warm-ups were followed by putting the mask back on while we listened to announcements and had an opening prayer. This past Thursday was the first rehearsal with all of us being together again (no more empty seats between us). And today continued that format.

Removing the masks again, we began rehearsal. The songs we practiced today were ones that we'll be singing on our upcoming "debut" Music & the Spoken Word performance (Oct 24th) and on future performances as well. The collection of songs contained a couple that were familiar, but most were either brand new (Mack and Ryan had recently composed/arranged them) or ones that we just hadn't sung in many years. We were encouraged to "memorize as we go" since our first MSW performance will feature songs that are completely memorized. I enjoyed rehearsing and enjoyed thinking about the lyrics and their meaning to me. There were plenty of times I got really tired and wished that our directors would have had us stand more. But through some will power and taking drinks of water, I was able to shake off the sleepies and focus at the task at hand. And as an added incentive to stay alert, I knew it was possible my phone would start to buzz at any moment and I'd have to leave the loft to handle a client escalation.

10:00am arrived and rehearsal concluded. With masks back on now, we made our way out of the loft and into the bunker and then out to the parking lot. It felt good to get up and walk. And as I got in my car and drove away from the Conference Center, not having really said goodbye to anyone or given my fellow choir friends farewell hugs (as used to be the case), I pondered, again, how different the Choir experience had become. 

And yet, there were some things that were the same. 

I tried to focus on those things and be grateful for them. 

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #403 - My Two Bits on Conference

In my post last week, I mentioned how difficult things have been in returning to Choir. Mainly because the return was not at all what I had envisioned the return to be. The covid protocols have added, for me, a sense of isolation and oppressiveness to the experience. And while I know the Church has put all of these measures in place for safety purposes (and to emphasize to the public that we're taking every possible precaution), there are just a few things that logically don't make sense in my brain and continue to weigh on me. Just one example: one would think that if a person is vaccinated AND has just barely had a negative covid test minutes/hours before, that he/she wouldn't have to wear a mask around other people who are also vaccinated and just had a negative covid test.  Right? And if we're singing without the mask (which is the time when we're breathing the hardest and spewing saliva particles to those around us), why would wearing the mask when we're just sitting there (and not breathing hard or spewing particles) be necessary?

But, I digress. I don't want this to be about covid. Because today I really tried hard to put all that aside and focus on other things. Which, by the way, made all the difference.

What "other things" you ask?

Well, for starters, I started talking to people despite the distancing and despite the masking. And it was good to talk to people. I've missed it. The last couple of rehearsals we've had, I pretty much kept to myself. But that made the isolation imposed by the mandated distancing and masks even worse. So today, I tried to smile at people with my eyes and at the very least, greet them with a "hello" or a "good to see you!" I had some good full on conversations with people during the breaks and during lunch, too. Part of the Choir experience I know and love is the social component. And if you take that away--that human connection we all need--the experience is severely degraded.

Another thing was focusing on the music itself of course. Soooo many words to get right today! My synaptic pathways in my brain were doing their best to recall what I had spent hours both in rehearsals and at home memorizing. I thought of the meaning of the words, too. Which is always important. If I think about them and internalize them, then when I sing them, I feel that internalization process somehow adds to the music and allows it to work its magic in people who are listening.

Yet another thing was focusing on the talks that were being given. That was a hit and miss experience. But there were some talks that truly spoke to my heart, and I appreciate the opportunity I had to feel the Spirit and subsequently have a desire to be a little bit better in various aspects of my life. 

The last thing I felt made a difference was looking ahead. I don't know how long these covid protocols will be a part of our choir experience. But I cannot see them lasting forever. And looking forward to that day when we can just all come and do what we did before (and how we did it before) is something to happily anticipate. Don't get me wrong though. Although that day will come, we will never go back to how things exactly were before. That's because we've all changed. We appreciate things more. We've all had experiences these past 19 months that have shaped our beliefs, our perceptions, and our overall dedication. 

But leaving behind the distancing, the masks, and the covid testing? Yeah, I definitely will not miss those things when they're gone. 

Anyway. Overall the experience today was not great. But it was good. It was in the right direction.
Better than I thought it would be.
So I'll take it.

One last thing. 

My heart goes out to those members of the Church who are deeply struggling with how the Church's leadership has handled the pandemic. Those struggles were not addressed specifically today in Conference and I know that was a disappointment to them. Hopefully the answers they seek and the peace they are desperately trying to find will come to them.

Until next time, God be with you.

PS: rehearsals with the entire Choir start up this coming Thursday and Music & the Spoken Word broadcasts will start up again very soon.

TCATS #402 - 555 (Singing Again)

555 refers to the number of days that the Tabernacle Choir has been in "pause" mode. But that pause came to an end this past Thursday night (and this morning) as the Sunday Conference session group came together to make music once more (the Saturday session group met on Tuesday). 

I'm not exactly sure what to say about it all. And I've kind of been dreading this moment of trying to document my emotions and feelings. So I ask for your patience as I work through this post.

Perhaps it would be best to first focus on what I was grateful for within this "return" experience.

I was grateful to sing in a large ensemble again. Truly. There's nothing like it.

I was grateful to be directed by Mack and Ryan again. I've missed them. 

I was grateful, once seated in the choir seats with our masks off, to look around and see people's faces. It was almost like we had never had the pandemic pause at all. But looking more intently, it was evident that time really had passed and people had changed. Their eyes seemed to tell their story.

I was grateful for the music memorizing I've been working hard on. That preparation paid off during the rehearsal. 

And I was grateful to have walked into the Conference Center with my friend Ryan B. who will be retiring just as soon as the Choir leadership gets that scheduled. I'll miss him. Glad he gets one more Conference to sing at.

As I've tried to put my finger on exactly what was hard about going back, I don't feel like I've come to any conclusions that I can fully communicate with words. It's true I didn't like wearing a KN95 mask and I didn't like getting a covid test (or waiting in anticipation for the results) and I didn't like all of the distancing. But beyond that, I think the pandemic has encased my heart with layers of bitterness. Bitterness caused by shutdowns, life modifications, disappointments, inconveniences, and so many questions with no clear answers. So, with anything that has layers, my bitterness ones will take some time to unpeel. 

I noticed one more thing, too.

A sense that I didn't belong. That I wasn't worthy to be there. Which perhaps was rooted in the never-good comparison game that my mind tried hard not to play, but did anyway. There were choir members who were totally and enthusiastically thrilled to be back, with smiles beaming on their faces, who had prayed in earnest for the return-day to come, who had fully supported the covid protocols (whatever it takes!), who had been gracious and kind-hearted towards those making decisions, and who had personally prepared spiritually. 

And then there was me. Who belonged in some other struggling, broken camp.

I don't know. I'm all jumbled up. Maybe what my heart is saying right now is found in one of the pieces we're performing. And I'll just end with those lyrics.

"Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace? When other sources cease to make me whole? When with a wounded heart, anger or malice; I draw myself apart searching my soul."

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #401 - Winding the Clock

Wind-up clocks, just like wind-up music boxes or toys, have the potential to be wound too much. There's this sometimes hard to figure out "sweet spot" of winding just enough so that the device runs at peak efficiency, but not over-winding it--which can lead to device failure (and it needing repair). Most people who observe a wind-up clock might not even know it runs by someone needing to wind it. They just look at the clock and not only appreciate that it tells the time, but they expect it to tell the time and to tell it accurately.

I feel sort of like a wind-up clock. 

I feel like all of these covid protocols that I'll be complying with first-hand this coming Thursday night for my first rehearsal will either be just enough or they'll be too much. 

I think there comes a point when restrictions and protocols make things feel so "tight" that you can no longer enjoy what you hope to enjoy or feel what you hope to feel. And just like there are different winding mechanisms, each with different winding limitations, so each person has different levels of emotional capacities and limitations in a potentially over-wound environment. 

I don't know how Thursday night will go. I've envisioned how it will mechanically go, but I don't know how it will emotionally go. But, I've committed to singing in the upcoming General Conference (Sunday session) and will do my best to memorize the music, to pray for a good experience, and to follow the seven-layer covid protocol (which was actually officially released to the public to know about). If after doing that though, I've discovered that the Tabernacle Choir singing experience is not what I personally need it to be in my life right now, then I'll likely apply for an official excused leave until society has learned to live with Covid--just like it lives with other viruses, illnesses, and health-impacting risks. 

That all said, I will hope for the best and will go into this experience with an optimistic attitude. The part I need to play right now is to memorize. So just as I've been doing that this past week, I will continue to do it from now until October 3rd.  

After that?

I will analyze how it went, how I felt, and if I was able to effectively contribute legitimate and authentic hope and peace while I sang. 

If I wasn't able to do THAT, then I'll need to initiate a self-imposed pause until such time as I can contribute again in meaningful and expected ways.

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #400 - Processing the Protcols

I'm hesitant to write this post because of the internal conflict going on within me. 

I feel like I'm probably the only one in the Choir who feels the way I feel. If there are others, I don't know who they are. But I can understand why they wouldn't make themselves known.

We had a meeting on Thursday in which the Choir Presidency, along with health care professionals within the Choir organization, the Choir directors, and other staff members, laid out a plan. The plan included several procedures we'd all need to follow if we wanted to sing in the Choir again. 

The Plan included the following seven layers:

1. Vaccination - uploading a digital copy of our covid vaccination card to the Choir admin team to prove that we are vaccinated.

2. Screening - examining our personal health and if we or any of our family members are immunocompromised, refraining from participating in the choir at this time.

3. Testing - arriving at every rehearsal or performance an hour early to undergo a rapid covid test. If we pass the test, we can sing. If not, we'll be excused.

4. Social Distancing - sitting one seat apart each from each other when we sing and keeping our distance from other choir members at other appropriate times.

5. Face Coverings - when not actively singing, wearing a K95 mask at all times after entering the Conference Center/Tabernacle. 

6. Self-Reporting - staying home if we're not feeling well, or staying home if anyone else in our household isn't feeling well.

7. Ventilation - singing in the Conference Center instead of the Tabernacle since the former has the better air flow/circulation system.

Overall, we were asked to be patient, to go forward with faith, to follow this plan with exactness, and to be prepared for future "pauses" if this plan needs adjusting. 

There was also a Q&A session to answer the multiple questions coming through on the chat section of the Zoom meeting. Only about four questions were answered (out of maybe 20 or so?) but we'll be getting a Q&A document that will cover all the questions asked. Some questions included asking about T-Cell tests (to take the place of the vaccination requirement), details on how the testing would work, protocols for carpooling, what to do if arriving late, etc. 

After the meeting, as I sat there in sort of a numb daze, I yearned to be one of those people who seemed to be completely on-board with the plan and ready to make whatever sacrifice was necessary to get back to singing. But I just kept thinking "really? is this all really necessary?" 

I longed to have a warn fuzzy feeling inside testifying that it was all as it should be. 

But whether I get that feeling or not, the part of me that desires to sing again will have to be enough to propel me forward. I just hope that in time, instead of merely complying, I'll comply with faith. 

So here's to hoping.

Until next time, God be with you.

TCATS #399 - Together, Not Apart

I started watching a Hulu mini-series that came out recently titled "9/11: One Day in America". The official description of the series reads as follows: "One Day in America tells the in-depth story of September 11th through the eyes of the witnesses, heroes and survivors. Made in collaboration with the 9/11 Memorial & Museum to mark the 20th anniversary, this major new series charts the tragic day in unprecedented detail – from the first plane hitting the north tower to the last survivors being rescued from the rubble."

Even after I started watching it though, part of me didn't want to continue watching it. Several parts of even the first episode caused many emotions to well up within me and tears to spring to my eyes. While I didn't lose anyone I personally knew that day, I lost fellow American brothers and sisters whose lives had meaning. And it was terribly sad to re-live that reality all over again--now nearly 20 years later. 

Of course the good that came from that tragedy was a greater feeling of unity. It was as if the title of our country--the UNITED States of America--actually reflected how we as American felt towards one another. I remember distinctly feeling that way and hearing from family members and friends that they felt that way too. 

It was with some interest, then, that I read a USA Today article titled "9/11 brought a sense of national unity. Why has the pandemic been marred by division?" The article starts off by saying "Bad times bring out the best in people. It must be true. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a cliché.  On the other hand, maybe clichés, like doctors, should be re-certified every once in a while. Does flattery really get you nowhere? Have good things ever come to those who wait?  Do bad times really make us better people? The 20th anniversary of 9/11 – occurring in the 18th month of the COVID-19 pandemic – offers a reality check. Also, a sobering study in contrasts.  Because if 9/11 brought us together, COVID seems to be tearing us apart."

In response to that "tearing us apart" reality check, the Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square will be airing a special Music & the Spoken Word episode titled "9/11: Coming Together". I don't think the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who sponsors the Choir, is thinking that just by airing this special there will be some massive movement to abandon division and adopt unity. Rather, I think the title is inviting all of us to "celebrate compassion, caring, and unity" and to "remind us of the goodness that connects all of us and of what happens when we reach out to help each other." (See official program description, HERE and trailer HERE)

I invite you all to watch the special (which actually airs at 8:46AM on 9/11; and again on Sunday, 9/12 at 9:30AM) and to ask yourself "what more can I do to show love and promote unity?" Perhaps as you listen to the music and hear the words in this program, you might feel inspired as to how best to answer that question.

Until next time, God be with you.