When we last left Tenor Dad, he was unsuccessfully making his way to Carnegie Hall, but not to worry dear readers!
As it turns out, the recording session I was doing was not at Carnegie Hall at all, but at a recording studio near the Bowery, nowhere near the actual Hall. I made it just in time, even after my subway train went out of service with me on it, and spent the day recording all of the tenor choral parts from Carmina Burana.
Let me tell you, this was not an easy job. For one thing, it is very difficult to sing middle harmonies by yourself in a padded room in a studio. The melodies were a little easier, but with no other parts there to guide you, singing the Tenor 2 line was often a challenge in the staying in tune department. There is a reason all of the parts are sung together.
Recordings are also pretty unforgiving. Little blips and wiggles that no one would ever notice in a live performance are exposed, stark and bare, for all the world to hear and analyze on a recording. This is why, after every take, the conductor, the pianist, the recording engineer and I would play back what had seemed like a flawless performance to our ears, and then proceed to find ten little things that I had not sung perfectly. I imagine that this must be rather what it is like to receive a colonoscopy in front of your in-laws and co-workers.
But the worst part of all was the fact that Carmina Burana has so many dang words. I felt like a victim of textual assault. Certain movements (I’m looking at you, In Taberna) have so much text, and move so quickly, that it is nearly impossible to get it all in there perfectly. Now, in a concert, when there are ten other guys singing your part, as well as an orchestra playing, and the audience is sitting a respectable distance away, no one would ever notice if you accidentally sang the word “et” instead of the word “est,” but when you are alone in the recording studio, well, let’s just say that some movements took a lot longer than others.
At this point I would like to answer your most burning question, which is “Did you get a free lunch?” And the answer is yes, I did get a free lunch. I had a filet mignon panini. No kidding. I am an artist. I can eat whatever I want for free lunch.
And so, after 8 hours of singing (and if you don’t think 8 hours of straight singing is exhausting, try it some time) and one hour of free lunch, we had completed the project. Now high schoolers all over the country will be able to listen to me singing their parts on their practice CDs. And if I mis-pronounced anything, well, too bad.