For those who have been following the growing saga of my part in the Resonance Show Choir, our story has reached it's finale:
We performed the show just this past Wednesday.
All this past week I have rarely seen the light of day outside the show choir practice walls, going over dances and choreography and running through the vocals over and over and over again, brushing dynamics, changing things last minute, and making everything seem like it might be worthy of the stage. We had the dress rehearsal on Monday with the band - needing to work out A LOT of little things and inconsistencies - and then cleaned vocals on Tuesday, heading home for the night to be calm and expectant.
This is my first semester ever of show choir. I've heard of show choir performances and shows and things, and I've kind of considered it longingly for a while. I love to sing and I love to dance, and I've enjoyed choirs that I've been in for quite a while... so the combination of the two seemed like it would be really really fun. The result? Hard to say. There is definitely a certain defined group of people who do show choir, and I admit with some innocent "eh, just the way it is" shrugging that I am simply not exactly one of those people. It was a little funny being the only engineer in the group, but also I guess... I don't know.
It's hard to say how much I've been enjoying the practices, because I have immensely enjoyed some of the dances - especially the more emotional, powerful ones - but I don't think I've connected with the company as well as I would have liked. I guess like I said it's just one of those things. It's been a long but also probably a good semester with them. There has been plenty of tension, some unrest, lots of lack of sleep, emotional drama (little, thankfully), and that typical drama of any production.
However, I must admit that as far as the organization of a production goes, this one has been all over getting its things done. The final practices and runs gave us the peace of mind necessary for show night.
And so, that night arrived.
Wednesday is an awkward time to have a performance of anything of any kind. How it worked out, anyone is to say, but the fact of the matter is, it was the only time we could get the theatre. Go us and go them. Nevertheless, I feel that it ended up working. I invited everyone I could think of and all the family and friends. Of course, not everyone came, but in the end, I reserved over two full rows with people that I had personally invited. I felt pretty happy =]
We arrived at the stage early on show day, preparing ourselves, our outfits, rerunning blocking and little things, working with the band on our parts... Gettin' stuff done. I was almost late because I had to pick up a few packages which I brought in and concealed in the dressing room. All the pre-show antics carried themselves out and the girls in their hair curlers fretted over one another.
Once we were dressed, we gathered together for pictures, big group shots of us in all our stuff - the girls in gorgeous pearled red dresses and the guys in suits and ties. We posed, we smiled, we laughed, we joked. This was the time, the beat, the moment before it would hit us. We were not nervous. Not yet. The butterflies in our stomachs were still metamorphosizing.
The photographer nodded, we gathered together at the base of the stage to pray and then broke into our cheer...
"1, 2, 3, RESONANCE!"
Away we went, into the rooms, into our cliques, and into the night. It had begun. The fears, the jitters, the shaking and nervous wonderings... How would it go? What would happen? Do I look alright? Am I moving correctly? What? What? What? Like a diver leaping from the height, we had thrown ourselves over the edge and into the abyss. Every heart knew.
It was in this moment that I chose to unveil the packages that I brought, presenting them each to their awardees: my dance partners. I gave each of the partners that I would have throughout the night a bouquet of roses, with a card attached that alluded to the particular song we would share. They loved them. I kind of hoped that it would help set the atmosphere for the night, calm their little hearts, and assure them of their own beauty and greatness. Hopefully so. They seemed to be quite pleasantly surprised. =]
And out we went, to sell tickets and greet. My family came to hugs and kisses, and then my friends to hugs and excited dances and bright eyes. They were ushered inside one after the other with photos and tickets and programs, each to the seats. We chatted and talked and I was so excited that everyone came.
I couldn't stay long however. The curtains awaited their players. The stage awaited our feet. The air awaited the music...
And the night awaited its grandeur.
We gathered in formation, hushed as we dared not look at one another for fear that the curtains were already opening. Outside, we could hear the applause for our leader as she introduced us. Inside, we could feel rising torrent of excitement and fear. In my own mind, I heard the words of one of the teachers who had helped us prepare along the way. He worked with us on one of the vocally more challenging songs, and as his mastery of conducting brought out of us the greatness of the piece, he told us how well we were doing and he gave us the challenge of a lifetime:
"The people who pay to see your show are going to feel like they have been treated like kings"
The applause faded. The theatre was black. The curtains rose slowly.
Alright God, I prayed, let's do this.
The song beat.
The music filled the air as the lights filled the stage with glow. She span, performing her part as I held her, dipped her once, twice, and lifted her again. With each new note, the song rose. With each beat of her fist, wave of her hand, punch of my arms, leap, turn, catch, slide, up, down, turn again...we were away.
We began to sing the words as the song caught, every breath of ours a breath of our emotion.
"And now, you say you're sorry..."
We did not sing his words. They were our own. They were us. This song was our song.
"...for being so untrue..."
We moved perfectly, not a beat missed, not a move undone, remembering our lines, our notes, our parts, and forgetting ourselves. We were one. We were all. Every strain of our grip was the story of our lost love and our pain. Every turn was the rejection and the reconnection. She pushed me away because she could not have me. She held my hand because she could not stand to leave.
"...I cried a river..."
...beat beat drop rise...
"...over you..."
spin. lift. turn. hold. pull. raise. beat...
fall.
I held her there as the last note of the song died away in the ceiling of the theatre. Then, as the moment of uncertainty and awe washed over the audience, they applauded.
We had won.
And the show continued onward...
The first set was an odd collection of "Cry Me A River" as performed by Micheal Bublé, the ballad "Remember When it Rained" by Josh Groban, and Celine Dion's "River Deep, Mountain High." It was fun, eclectic, and went spectacularly. This we performed in the suits and red dresses I mentioned earlier. They were fairly serious, difficult, well-run songs of ours and we got into it 100%.
The curtains fell and two ensemble groups sang pieces to give the group time to change for the second set. After "Fallin'" and "Walk Down That Lonesome Road," we were already behind the curtains, waiting.
They opened to the girls in shimmering silver dresses like curtains of sheer diamond and performed their number to open the "90's" set: "Come On Over." As the music ended and turned into another beat by a familiar group, the boys hopped on stage from both sides, dressed in white v-necks, chic grey vests, and jeans to perform N-Sync's "Space Cowboy," whi-yi-yi-yippie-aye-aying it across the stage to the delight of the crowd. Then, the whole group took over the place with a hip and happenin' performance of "Bring In Da Noise" to finish it with power. We had already proven our greatness. With the second set, we proved our spirit, and had gobs of fun.
There was a documentary video about the group to break up the intermission as we put on our last costumes-the girls in black, European-style zip jackets and the boys in white button downs and black suspenders. We were on stage and set when the curtain opened, boys behind the girls.
The first notes of Fall Out Boy's "Thnks fr th mmrs" rang out from the electric guitar, too slow at first but picking up speed as the song moved into its crescendo. All that teenage angst and lust reverberated in bursts and steps as every face felt the sting of deceit, but we left all that behind as the song died and moved into our great a capella number "When We Are One." We held one another close as we sang about overcoming distances and never being alone, rising and falling in one of the songs that has history with the Resonance group and has an amazing baritone part, if I may say so myself.
Our poor director nearly lost it emotionally.
And finally, for our finale song, we began harmonizing and changing formation. The girls took off their jackets to reveal colorful sequin tops and we began Gaga's "Edge of Glory." It was the last dance and everything had to go into this one.
So we gave it all we had.
I remember stepping forward to the edge of the stage and kneeling to take my partner into me so that we could be together for the final pose. I remember lifting her unto my knee and holding her steady as every light and every eye shined on us. I remember holding my hand high and smiling at the faces that stood to cheer for us. We had done it. We had rocked. Tonight, it had been us on the edge of glory. We dove into the abyss, and we landed among the stars.
Everyone raved with how awesome the show was. I had the time of my life. Well, one of them at least. I couldn't have asked for better =]
I'm Jonathon, and this is my life.
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