transcendence

The Bethany Quartet, at our 20th Anniversary (and only) Recital

I have done some singing in my life.  I have an okay voice.  It has never been strong - and lack of use and middle age has not helped that.  It has rarely been confident - aside from a brief, egotistic period in my high school days, I do not like to sing in public without at least three other people around me.  But I don't have to! 

The "Bay Belles" in the early-mid 80's

I know some extraordinary singers.  I have been blessed to meet, sing, and grow friendships with the owners of some remarkable voices.  Outside of family, I believe that I can trace every significant relationship and event in my life to singing.  I met the father of my children in choir.  I met each of my closest friends singing.  I came back to church in my 20's because of someone I met in choir.  I met my soul mate in choir.

It began in high school, this singing-makes-friends thing that has really been central to my life.  It was there that I was first exposed to the joy that is acapella singing.  It continued in early adulthood, as I joined an acapella group - we sang chamber music in Renaissance garb, and called ourselves "The Schleptet" - which formed out of the local community college. 

a reunion photo of some of the Schleptet (and our kids)

Four of the men in that group were in a barbershop quartet, so three of the women and I formed our own quartet. (This is where I first learned that long talks and sharing our lives together during rehearsal is just as important as singing!)  When the Schleptet sang together, it was sublime.  Rehearsal time was intimate, in somebody's living room, standing in a circle.  We'd quit goofing around and begin to sing, to each other really, watching the beat, eyeing each other for cues and cutoffs. 

Sometimes it was all I could do to just close my eyes and absorb the amazing, transcendent sound of 10 people, each singing a different harmony.  Talk about soaring.

The Bethany Quartet on a road trip in 2000

As those groups grew up and faded away, a new singing era began for me, at church.  We formed a women's quartet - inspiringly named "The Bethany Quartet", ha! - just over 25 years ago.  I also joined the choir, and have participated off and on over the last few decades.  More recently, my quartet and a men's quartet have joined forces.  The "Super Quartet" is the latest incarnation for me of the ability to make transcendent music with only the human voice.  Oh, my goodness, it is heaven to sing with those seven people.

We had a rehearsal just the other night.  Unfortunately, one of us is having voice troubles.  We sat around a table and discussed what to do.  The conversation was laden with love, respect, and humor.  We came away deciding that we would not sing together for a while, to allow that one voice to heal.  This was a sad conclusion to reach, but we know that we will sing together again.  We left the building, stepping out into a balmy, pre-Spring evening. I stopped to listen as we each called out quietly to the others our good nights, reminders of the next time we would meet, that sort of thing.  It all seemed so dear, it made me tear up a bit.

I love these people so much, I said to God.  Thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NPR has a series called "Tiny Desk Concerts".  When I clicked on this one from the Minnesota group Cantus, it captured perfectly for me the essence of the intimacy that singing together brings.  This is not something you will see in a concert hall.  Watch how they look at each other, how they curl around each other, their body language when they are singing, and when they are not.  This is bliss.