Maggie Broadley, who sings soprano in the GSA Choir, reflects upon the Composeher world premiere concert.
The sound of 96 singers rising en masse, opening their choir folders simultaneously as ‘the Maestro’ gives the sign…and so, it began.
A controlled intake of breath, preparing for that first note in advance, looking down at the first sheet of the 110 contained in my folder, then back up to focus on our Musical Director, Jamie’s, first cue.
Earlier, three years seemed to have flown by in the blink of a sleepy eye as my alarm rang out. 6am and it was ‘the day’; three years of rehearsals and practise, rehearsals and practise – and even more rehearsals and even more practice – as the months then years disappeared almost in a flash.
Travelling to Glasgow, I reflected on the huge learning journey we’ve been on as a choir since Jamie announced that our next project was Composeher, the most important and ambitious project we have tackled as an ensemble to date. Taking on two or three new compositions is a bit of a stretch but seven, that’s been an unbelievable – and occasionally seemingly unachievable – challenge, even for those in the choir who can read music…which made the 20% of us who can’t, feel slightly comforted when things got taxing!
But there we all were, 10am in Glasgow’s City Halls, finally being drilled into shape: our exact places on the stage, who we were next to, who was in front of us, could we still see Jamie conducting – “get the basses some blocks” (to raise them slightly) – practising how we get on and off the stage, exactly how we hold our folder, exactly how we open it…and that’s before we even start our rehearsal. Two pieces done and dusted, a short break for lunch then back to complete this, the final rehearsal.
It is fair to say our Jamie can seem to be a hard taskmaster at times, but it’s always done to drive us on; he really believes in us, he cares and wants us to achieve what he knows we can. Predominantly though, as well as ambition and hard work, it’s laughter, fun and friendship that’s a definite ‘thing’ in the GSA Choir, even on momentous occasions like these: halfway through, Jamie starts us off then goes to the back of the hall to listen to us sing. There’s good news and bad news; “the good news is the acoustics in the hall are fantastic, you can hear absolutely everything.”
The bad news? “The acoustics in the hall are fantastic, you can hear absolutely everything.”
It’s a hot, muggy day inside and out, singing makes it even hotter. We all go back to our dressing room for a little food, some time to unwind then change into concert gear. Sitting in the dressing room that’s a little more subdued than usual, I almost feel I might not have anything left for the actual performance.
But then the doors open, and our composers enter on their way to the stage and their pre-concert talk. We’ve had the chance to meet most of them in person, as well as become social media friends with many. It’s been the most illuminating privilege, listening to their creative thought process at special workshops, finding out more about what inspires them, what kind of people they are, what their musical journey has been; all have been so generous and hugely supportive.
Seeing them all walk through the door and into the corridor leading to the stage, I feel energised; amazing composers walking past who have worked incredibly hard to become musicians, composers, performers, teachers and humanitarians. For them, it’s not a job but a passion, they are driven to create and tell stories through their music in the same way that others have put pen to paper; written poems, diaries or scientific journals.
Tonight, for the first time, they are sharing their Composeher pieces with the public.
As a creative practitioner, I know only too well how exposing it is to open your work up to scrutiny, no matter how much you have done it before. Surely, I can manage to put aside my slight anxiety and just think of helping to give voice to the notes and words on the page that writers and composers have nurtured into being?
We are applauded onstage by friends and families who have lived and breathed these last 3 years with us, and who’ve done without us more and more as we’ve increased our rehearsal schedule. They are joined by supporters of contemporary choral music and those passionate about increasing commissioning and programming of composers who are women. Jamie receives a huge cheer and rightly so, he has driven this project from the start, and we know he feels the significance and emotion of being here, tonight, with us.
Now, we are singing, singing, singing…of the land and its deities celebrating moving from winter into spring; of the power and pull of ‘spiritual landscapes’, nature and wild places; of peoples dispossessed, ripped from their homeland, their language, their culture; of the spectre and horror of war and bravery and quiet sacrifice; of scientific enquiry, transformation and symbiosis creatively detailed; of an ‘internal world’ where new life begins, is nourished and their eventual destiny imagined; of a deeply personal loss, of regret and grief that is ours, but also everyone’s – we are not alone.
As a ‘closet soloist’ who has suffered from performance anxiety, the joy of singing in this choir is that we are there for each other. I haven’t encountered any egos, or had anyone be anything other than helpful to us less knowledgeable singers. At one point, the ensemble came slightly apart on Saturday – as can happen during live performances, part of their thrill and their terror – but we all found the way back together, a bit like a murmuration of starlings; slightly out of time for a few seconds but combining again to be that shimmering wall of voices.
Singing a cappella has been a real roller coaster experience for me but I can’t imagine these wonderful pieces any other way. The voice is an instrument that comes from our very core; humanity has used it to make music for millennia, we don’t need anything else to create the most glorious, evocative and powerful sounds. What I have found the most intriguing thing from singing in a choir is that we, as choral singers, don’t actually know what each of the pieces sound like to an audience…when you’re in the thick of it you do not hear how the parts blend together.
The palpable relief at having sung all seven pieces in their entirety is rapidly replaced by sheer joy and pride. The audience is on its feet, clapping, cheering, whooping as our wonderful composers and writers come on stage alongside Jamie. It continues, and is repeated for a second standing ovation. I almost lost it for the first time when our composers and writers turned round and applauded us, the singers…the power of music and words to celebrate, to move, to challenge, to soothe and give voice to the dispossessed; how humbling.
Thank you one and all. What an absolute privilege it has been to be a part of this truly special project and performance, given from the heart of each and every one of us involved on the night and throughout the project. It is an experience that will be forever etched on this amateur singer’s heart.