How to Succeed in the Chorus Without Really Trying - Part 1
20th August 2008
By Ms Cassandra Trumpington
 

How to Succeed in the Chorus Without Really Trying

Or

A Guide for the Amateur and Professional Chorister, with special reference to The Chorister’s Code

 

Contents

1. Foreword – A policeman’s lot…

2. The Rehearsal Period – How to work it baby

·         The 1st Music Call – How to prepare

·         The 3rd Music Call

·         Conductors’ Tantrums, Tarantara!

·         Special notes on The Look

·         Stage Managers – and other dictators you have known and loved

·         How to rehearse on Sunday mornings after a big night out

 

1.  Foreword - A policeman’s lot…

….is not a happy one.

While Gilbert’s Sergeant of Police was no doubt spot on in this rather gloomy self-assessment, he could well have added – “an’ Choristers’ lots neither!” without being too wide of the mark.

Singing in the chorus of a musical, or an operetta, or even (or perhaps especially) in an opera, is no easy task.  Faced with laborious hours of rehearsal in arctic or volcanic rehearsal rooms as the season dictates, along with deranged directors, cantankerous choreographers and conductors with fuses shorter than the run of the latest Eddie Maguire show, your Chorister has what can only be considered a somewhat thankless task – all the sweat and the toil with nary a whiff of the glory.

However, dear Chorister, don’t be discouraged!  You can have a marvellously fulfilling time in the Chorus, with very little effort, in amateur shows or all the way through to the Metropolitan Opera, if you have just a few crucial survival techniques under your belt.

It’s my privilege to share with you now a handful of these techniques, along with tips on how to avoid some of the more common hazards of Chorus life, learned the hard way through some years of experience as a professional Chorister, combined with a Director’s perspective. 

Just follow these simple guidelines and your experience in the rehearsal room and on the stage, be you Jolly Villager, Townsfolk, Wench, Bumpkin or Fop, will be forever changed for the better.

Let’s take it from the top, with the rehearsal period, which the wise Chorister will approach as if ‘twere a minefield.

 

2. The Rehearsal Period - how to work it baby

The 1st Music Call – How to prepare

Prepare?! Please, get a grip!  You’ll learn the music through exhaustive repetition in music calls with your Chorus Master or Conductor.  It won’t matter whether you’ve spent hours at home studying the score and listening to recordings, your conductor will for no apparent reason assign the tenors to the bass line (“to add bravura”) and the basses to the tenor line (“to add gravitas”), and will have a refreshingly experimental approach to the generally recognized tempi.  As for the text, the Director will probably want to move your production of Anything Goes to a bowling alley in Northcote, 1978, so that all the rhymes, and character and place names, will naturally be changed anyway.  So you’re doomed to hours of agonizing note-bashing no matter what you do.  Far better to show up to the first music call, and announce that you’ve left your score at home, and have no pencil, nor eraser neither.  You might at least then begin by having the satisfaction of watching the music staff scurry around for a bit, while you put your feet up and prepare the vocal cords for action with a nice cup of tea and a cream biscuit.

Footnote: depending on the company concerned, you may only score a plain tea biscuit.  Don’t work with these companies again, obviously.

The 3rd Music Call

Okay, this call requires a different approach. Now you’ve done some rehearsing and might be expected to remember something.  Of course, you don’t remember anything, and haven’t so much as glanced at the dots between calls (studying between rehearsals is regarded as a serious transgression of The Choristers’ Code, by the way).  To avoid any unpleasantness arising from this, you must hone your “Conductor Interaction” skills.  In summary, while having your nose completely buried in the music at all times whilst singing, be sure to sit up straight and look the conductor right in the eye just as you sing the final note in the phrase, giving him/her a bright-eyed, switched on, I’m right here with you kind-of-a-look.  This should pretty much cover it.  If not, you may find it necessary to role your eyes in irritation at the person beside you and pointedly tap along rhythmically as you sing, as if to suggest that you’d be fine if the idiot beside you would only sing the right notes/in time/the right text/in the right language.  Don’t worry that this is some sort of betrayal of your fellow Chorister; they’ll be doing the same thing to you, the idea being to leave the conductor with a thick head and a confused notion that while each individual knows their music perfectly, collectively the Chorus doesn’t know a single bar of it.

Footnote: Forgot to mention that I’ve skipped straight to the 3rd Music Call because you shouldn’t show up for the second - it’s generally considered poor form to attend 2nd Music calls.

Conductors’ Tantrums, Tarantara!

It’s comforting to know that all conductors, without exception, will scream hysterically at the Chorus at least once per production.  They learn this technique in the first year of their training.  You may find it amusing to lay bets on the timing and style of the tantrum, however, it can be tricky preventing race-fixing, given that an individual Chorister is more than capable of falsely triggering the tantrum at any time.  The true conductor’s tantrum occurs naturally, and the best ones are those that involve a baton fling, score toss and, ideally, a walk out.  That this is an expected event and cause for celebration for those with winnings to collect, on no account means that the Chorus should take it in good part.  On the contrary, the tantrum offers the Chorus a valuable opportunity to employ The Look.  Equally applicable to conductors, directors, choreographers and stage managers alike, The Look is an essential skill for any Chorister and should be utilised as and when - judiciously of course.

Special Notes on “The Look”

The Look, is a frosty, blank-faced expression of utter intractability, relieved by an admixture of mild disappointment and bruised esteem.  It is more effective when accompanied by suitable body language i.e. arms folded tightly across the chest, shoulders slumped, head at an insolent angle, eyes staring dully into the distance, plus any subtle variations the Chorister may care to add.  Having utilised  The Look, the Chorus should then continue to rehearse, but with about a 40% reduction in enthusiasm, spirit and accuracy.

Footnote: Ensure that standards set in previous rehearsals mean that the recipient of The Look can easily tell the difference in the reduced level of effort, and so feel suitably rebuffed.

Further Footnote: The Look works best when employed in exquisite unison. Ironic, given that it was very likely a complete absence of unison that induced the tantrum in the first place.  Which is neither here nor there.

Stage Managers - and other dictators you have known and loved
 
“As some day it may happen that a victim must be found
I've got a little list--I've got a little list…” (The Mikado, G & S)

 IIf you are new to Chorus life, you may be labouring under the misapprehension that the Director is the most important person in the rehearsal room.  Should you choose to cling to this foolhardy delusion, the Stage Manager will without delay happily enlighten you, for indeed it is he or she (it generally is a She) who is La Grande Fromage

Any Stage Manager worthy of the title, can, and probably will, make your life a living hell.  If you think of them as a kind of sweaty, permanently enraged, purple-faced psychotic Sergeant Major, things will go better for you. 

Stage Managers run the rehearsal room!  They will seize the opportunity to bellow ferociously if you: are late; leave early; forget to sign-on; talk above a whisper; whisper; eat or drink; chew gum; leave your mobile on; forget your prop; break your prop; use your prop suggestively; bluetooth the basses with harmless obscenities and so on.

The reason for this uncanny likeness to great dictators you have known and loved, is that Stage Managers bear the crushing responsibility of “calling” each performance from Prompt

Corner.  This means ensuring that every performer and musician has turned up (more or less sober), that every lighting state and set change happens, that every prop is in the right place at the right time and that every performer enters on cue.  Her cue…that is…!  That’s right, dear Chorister, if you lose favour with your SM, you may end up being deliberately mis-cued for every entrance and so be torn to shreds nightly by the Director.

Fortunately, since SMs usually feel that performers “ain’t got no respeck” and live in some kind of fool’s paradise, it’s possible to work around this little irritation with a modest investment during the first few production calls. Buying the SM a soy mocha latté and muffin or two, assisting with re-setting the room at the end of rehearsal (x 2) and dropping a few compliments on the extraordinary neatness and precision of their Production Book should do it.  You will have established that you are not one of these flighty, irresponsible performers who consider SMs a lower life form, but rather that you are a good egg, a mate even, who fully appreciates that without them, the whole show would fall over (which is actually pretty close to the truth.) 

Having done this, you’ll find that you can get away with any amount of talking, lateness etc with nothing more than a long-suffering eye-roll and fond tsk tsk, while your fellows are still quivering from the vicious tongue-lashing delivered at last week’s matinée.

How to rehearse on Sunday mornings after a big night out

Don’t!  If you are really feeling like Mikey Robbins (before) has been jumping up and down on your head all night and a carpet company has felt compelled to lay wall-to-wall shag pile on your tongue, then just be a no-show** for the 10am start.  Time your arrival, after a good fry-up and a few stiff espressos, for about 11.30am (just before morning tea).  As you arrive, and all eyes in the room are upon you, assume a tragic air and a shattered expression.  If someone even looks like they are going to ask where you were, cut them off abruptly with a terse, “Don’t ask”.  Being imaginative folk, they will do the rest and will assume that you have courageously come to rehearsal despite some sort of atrocious family drama.  You can gradually cheer up after morning tea and participate as usual for the rest of the day.  The Director will, if anything, go easy on you and give you a sympathetic smile and little back rub along with each piece of direction.

** An acquaintance of mine who sang in the chorus of The Merry Widow, also performing the minor role of “Lo Lo”, was nicknamed “No Show” by the production team for her tendency to show up for only about 1 in 3 rehearsals.  We are all very proud.

Next week: Props to you! Parasols, porridge and pitfalls and Chorus Acting – An ancient tradition…

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