Chicago Chorale held its final face-to-face, pre-covid rehearsal on March 11, 2020. We were in the home stretch of preparations for our performance of the J.S. BachSt. John Passion, scheduled for March 27, at St. Michael’s Roman Catholic Church in Old Town. The venue, the vocal soloists, the instrumentalists, the rented portative organ, were all set to go. Plane reservations and local accommodations had been arranged; ticket sales were moving briskly. Chorale itself had been rehearsed to the point of clarifying every final consonant, measuring precisely every vocal ornament, refining each sound in the German text. We had prepared diligently, and were excited to bring our production to fruition. We were aware of the Covid19 pandemic, but naive about the radical changes ahead; like arts organizations all over the world, we hoped to be able to squeak under the wire. We didn’t realize the enormity of the situation about to engulf us.
My experience of that final Wednesday rehearsal was heightened by a telephone call I received mid-rehearsal, informing me that my daughter, expecting her first child, had been checked into the hospital and had gone into labor, three weeks earlier than expected. I was fearful for her. My wife and I were able to go to the hospital and see her, and able to see her new baby two days later, March 13; but the hospital closed to visitors right after that visit, and we did not see mother and child again for several days, until they came home. We had a final family dinner at Pizza Capri, our favorite neighborhood restaurant, knowing that it would be closing the next day; the owner, Max Taleb, sat down at our table and told us he didn’t really know what he was going to do: continue with a take-out business or just close down. Our sons stopped attending school, and switched to the then-experimental online system, around our dining room table.
Chorale cancelled rehearsals and concerts, and cancelled our trip to Spain. I, and the rest of the group, were in a state of shock and disbelief; it took us a while to become rational and forward-looking. One of our tenors, Alex Luke, who had interest, experience, and equipment, suggested we try the new “virtual choir” format that was beginning to appear on Facebook, as a way of rallying our membership and supporters. We organized the group over email, and chose a piece (the Rachmaninoff Bogoroditse dyevo). Alex sent detailed instructions to the membership, and finally, on May 4, we posted our finished product. Over the ensuing weeks, we decided to continue producing similar videos. We also decided to produce interpretive videos, talking about the repertoire and the process. Our working title for this series of videos was Bruce’s Brats; or, How the Sausage is Made—and the name stuck. Alex came up with an image of sausages being grilled over a fire, and that became our brand. We also decided to institute regular Wednesday meetings, beginning September 16.
Here we are, a year later. Choir rehearsals are one of the riskiest of super spreader activities; but each day, more of our population is vaccinated, and local infection numbers decline. Illinois, under the leadership of our fearless Governor Pritzker, has done a good job tackling this situation. We fervently hope to be able to reconvene, physically, by next Autumn, to rehearse and present a full concert season in 2021-2022. This year off has taken a toll on us, and on everyone— we are all older, some singers have moved away, some have moved on to other activities and priorities. We will face new challenges; we’ll have new singers, we’ll sing new repertoire. We have learned that we are strong, that we have a solid base, that our twenty years of growth have given us the maturity to move fearlessly into the future. I’m looking forward to it.
