Singing together alone

I recently reconnected with a choral group I sang with years ago. We’re three weeks into a five week Zoom choral experience. I signed up for this out of curiosity and as a way to make connections during this viral time. But I was dubious. Much of the joy of choral singing, for me, is the interaction with the other singers, listening carefully to each other as we weave harmonies around the melody, our many voices becoming one. How could I be part of a chorus singing by myself in my little pixeled box?

And we do each sing alone in our houses, muted to avoid the cacophony of variable connection speeds, learning our parts and then singing along with a recording of the song. As with many pandemic adaptations, it’s strange and a bit sad this singing together alone. 

But there is pleasure in the singing, in opening my throat, hitting the pitch, holding strong to my part. And as I look at the other singers in their little boxes, mouths moving, bodies swaying, and sometimes their eyes look up from the music, into their cameras and then into others’ eyes, I can imagine our gathered individual voices blending, swelling, diverging, and merging, our virtual chorus, and it is good enough, for now. 

Here’s one of the songs we’re singing: We Shall Be Known