Exhausting rehearsals

I've had to go up to London after work for chorus rehearsals. We are doing Mahler's Second Symphony next Thursday on the Southbank at the Festival Hall. It's the most beautiful music but we have a German chorus master, and he shouts at us to get the sound he wants.

Someone coughed last night. "What is this?" he demanded. "Are we in a hospital now?"
She coughed again -- I mean, how could she control it? "This is not a hospital!" he reiterated, loudly.

Then he'll circulate among us, listening to see who is not coming in at the right beat or whose voice is standing out from someone else's. "This is a chorus! You listen to your neighbor and blend with them. This is not your individual recital."

You never know when it'll be YOU in the spotlight. I don't speak German so it's hard to memorize the whole piece we are singing but it enrages him that we need to look at our scores.

"The papers! Stop rustling the papers. Sing with your heart, not with your head!" We tried, but it's difficult. He caught someone looking at the music. "Why are you looking at your notes? I said to stop it."

Oh well, he's getting a great sound out of us so I suppose it's all worth it. I slipped out early anyway because my daughter Katie showed up at the rehearsal so I took her to dinner after. We ate at a sushi bar in Paddington Station then I caught the train home.

Another rehearsal tonight. I don't know if I'll survive it. :)