Last night, for the umpteenth year in a row, I played piano for the scholarship auditions sponsored (I believe) by the Kenosha Choir Boosters. It’s a scholarship that is given to a deserving high school senior, and the award is granted on the basis of several things, including a music audition sung for the high school and middle school choir directors. And since it’s a rather off-the-cuff affair with minimal opportunity for rehearsal beforehand, it’s my kind of gig. But beyond the exhilarating challenge it presents to me as a pianist, it’s also a heartwarming experience to meet and play for some of the most talented seniors in the school district and to feel the intense affection and pride in that room emanating from their teachers. There’s also a tinge of melancholy in the room because- while there are a few obnoxious or trouble- making seniors whose graduation and departure is a relief if not a reason to dance a jig- these seniors, by and large, are the kind of singers and young people you would chain to the choir room piano and never allow to leave your program. . . if such a thing weren’t frowned upon. These are the kind of singers that are the reason you become a choir teacher in the first place. (By and large the choir directors see a lot of themselves in these young singers, some of whom hope someday to be music teachers themselves.)
Anyway, it was a great night. . . which is not to say that it was one brilliant performance after another. But every one of those seniors got up there and had something important to say in their singing- and even those performances that were rough around the edge were endearing and inspiring all the same. Among my favorite moments….
*As I did a quick rehearsal with everyone beforehand (just to set tempos- there wasn’t time to run through anything start to finish) one young man whom I’d never met (he doesn’t go to Tremper, where Polly teaches) said nervously “I’ve been a big fan of yours for such a long time.” Most of my fans are 80-year-old women (and I’m thrilled to have them, by the way) so to hear those words from the lips of a high school guy was pretty special.
*The first piece sung in the auditions was “Your Daddy’s Son,” a drop-dead gorgeous song from the musical Ragtime. . . and it was given a truly wonderful performance by a young woman who is headed to Carthage next year. This is perhaps my single favorite musical theater piece to play and I was really getting into it, relishing the chance to play it for a fine young singer and on a superb Steinway grand piano to boot! As we finished and the applause exploded, one of the teachers in the room leapt to their feet and ran up to me from the audience, and I assumed it was to say something like “you play that song so gorgeously.” But what they in fact whispered into my ear was “could you please play about 20 percent softer?” Oops.
*These were very able singers for the most part, and a complete pleasure to play for, but I have to say that some of my favorite moments for me were a couple of auditions where the singers had clearly not had much chance to rehearse with the full accompaniment and were a bit shaky on entrances. I don’t have the fastest fingers in the business by a long shot, but when a singer drops a beat or comes in early, I have this knack for following them. I can’t quite explain it, but it’s too bad I didn’t have a similar gift on the basketball court because I would have made one heck of a guard, sticking right with the player I was guarding and anticipating their every move.
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*Then there was the case of Schubert’s “Gretchen am Spinnrade” which means “Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel.” It’s a magnificent masterpiece and also a booger to play. (Pardon the graphic language.) It’s based on Goethe’s Faust and the text depicts Marguerite sitting at the spinning wheel, remembering her romantic encounter with Faust which lead up to the moment they kissed- a moment that is seared into her being and that she cannot forget. The accompaniment features a perpetual running of 16th notes to depict the spinning of the spinning wheel- and for the pianist it is a test of agility and endurance both. Imagine my shock when I turned from the first page to the second page- and it wasn’t there- the pages seemed to be entirely out of order (and I never did find the second page, by the way) – and so I am playing that relentless spinning wheel figure with one hand and with the other trying to sort out the pages of the song. Evidently the teachers in the audience noticed my problem and must have been throwing concerned glances my way because every five or six measures or so the singer would also throw a glance my way as if to ask “is everything okay over there?” I tried to smile back at her as reassuringly as I could. By the last page and a half, I had found my place in the printed music again and whispered a little thank you to myself that I had played this piece enough times in the past to be able to go on muscle memory when I had to. And bless her heart, the singer did very well.
* Mostly it was a night to celebrate singing – and for these teachers to feel tremendous pride in what these seniors have come to achieve and the ways in which they have grown up so beautifully. That all came to a lovely climax when one of Polly’s senior guys brought the auditions to a close with a really beautiful, heartfelt performance of “On the Street where you live” from My Fair Lady. I’m not sure what was neater- to watch this young tenor sing with such feeling and passion. . . or to see the transcendent pleasure and pride on Polly’s face. A choir director lives for these very moments, even though the moment implies the closing of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. . . yet another goodbye that is an inevitable part of the life of the teacher.