Chasing
Dreams
The
Las Vegas Experience
By Maggie Ryan, Greater Harrisburg Chorus, Region 19
There
is something peculiar about the nature of dreams. They don’t
arrive in a hail of trumpets. We cannot brace ourselves for the
next dream that lurks around the corner. No, our dreams are not
shouted from the hilltops. They are whispered in the dark, in our
ears, as we sleep. Usually, we don’t remember them in the
morning. But that doesn’t matter. Dreams write themselves
on our souls. And when we need them most, they are there to bring
us comfort, strength and faith.
The buildup for Sweet Adelines International’s 60th annual
convention and competition was all about the astonishing confluence
of multi-medalists in America’s capital of glamour and glitz.
Fate had brought them together in Las Vegas, Nev.: the Melodeers,
riding four straight championships; North Metro, which spanned the
millennium with three titles in a row; Rich-Tone, whose trio of
trophies dominated the mid-1990s; Gem City, the five-time winner
that defines sustained excellence, and San Diego, whose two championships
25 years apart mirrored the growth and exuberance of women’s
barbershop music.
Those five, along with 28 other top-level choruses, comprised one
of the deepest fields ever in the 33 contests staged since 1973.
Handicapping this race began early in the Sweet Adelines community.
Regional scores were analyzed and dissected. The boom in easy, worldwide
communication raised the volume as Internet chatterboxes suggested
strategy and traded inside information. By the time the lights finally
went up in October, speculation had reached a fevered pitch, and
sell-out crowds squeezed into seats, aisles and doorways.
We had come to Vegas, baby. Time to roll the dice.
Except, and you know this, excellence is not a happy accident. We
don’t choose our champions with a spin of the wheel. It takes
work to get here, and even more work to stay. Hard work brings its
own rewards, sure, for a day. But then there you are again, with
another hill to climb.
Dale Syverson directed her Rich-Tone Chorus to its most recent title
in 1998, after winning in 1995 and 1992. They were the spandex-clad
Texans with big hair and an even bigger sound. They didn’t
do moves, they were choreographed. They shook off outfits and wore
costumes instead. If you thought Sweet Adelines was a chance to
float in a pool of lush harmonies, the Rich-Tones were there to
snap you out of it. Their contest packages were not so much performances
as extravaganzas of music, color and precision. They demanded your
attention, commanded your participation. Floating in sound? More
likely, the Rich-Tones’ wave lifted and carried you away.
We know what alters the course of the seas — wind, tides,
internal forces and external pressures. Win once, and you have to
do it again to prove yourself worthy. Win again, and the stakes
get higher. Victory, once a bolt from the blue, becomes an expectation.
Suddenly, that dream you chased is chasing you.
This is where we meet today’s Rich-Tone Chorus. When pressure
pushed in, this group pushed back — harder. A few internationals
ago, a visitor to the Rich-Tones’ warm-up room backstage found
tension, fatigue and apprehension. This year’s Rich-Tones
pulsed with one electrifying rhythm. From their warm-up chant of
“I am ready for the stage,” to the level, steady gaze
of anticipation in every woman’s eyes, this chorus spoke with
one voice.
“We’ve got about 30 seconds (before we perform) and
we are locked and loaded,” Dale told her troops.
Step aside, folks, the Rich-Tones have their swagger back.
They won by a scant 18 points, all of them coming in the semifinal
round. In the finals, the Melodeers and Rich-Tones tied with a whopping
1,493 points. North Metro followed in third, with Skyline fourth
and Gem City fifth. Scores and placements tell a fraction of the
story. They don’t reveal how 10,000+ people leaped up en masse
to sing Shout! and party with the explosive Melodeers. Nor do they
convey North Metro’s challenging message about homelessness,
and the thoughts it provoked days and weeks later. And no score,
ever, will capture the warmth of the standing ovation for Gem City’s
Jean Barford — an embrace that enveloped her before the chorus
had sung a note. Maybe someday Sweet Adelines International will
find a way to measure heart. Until then, we let our champions do
our talking for us.
“This chorus believed in itself probably more than I did,”
Dale said after the Rich-Tones celebrated their gold medals with
a rousing rendition of Man of La Mancha.
The journey from its last win in ’98 “has been a life
cycle, filled with hard changes,” Dale said. “We had
to look at who we are and what we are. We had to examine our values.”
Amid the glee and raucous celebrations, Renee Craig stood at the
base of the stage and tried to catch her daughter’s eye. She
could have been any proud mother at this moment, but of course,
she is not. She is Renee — the most celebrated arranger, director,
singer and personality of Sweet Adelines’ first 60 years;
one of the few people you can refer to by just her first name, and
barbershoppers worldwide will know exactly who you mean.
Renee’s daughter, Holly Beck, addressed her fellow Rich-Tones
at a chorus breakfast the week of international contest. As director
of three-time International champion Ramapo Valley Chorus, her mother
has had a long history of milestones in barbershop. Before every
contest, Renee would gather all her singers close and tell them
they are connected by golden threads each to each other, each to
the past. At the end of 2006, Holly told them, Renee will retire.
And with that, she held out a cluster of golden strands, handing
them to Dale.
“She is passing the legacy on to you.”
Was this contest ever really in doubt?
“We stand on the shoulders of giants,” Dale said amid
the cacophony of her celebrating chorus members. In her hands she
held the golden threads, and her eyes filled.
“I have been seeing what is going to happen with us for the
next five years for awhile now,” she said. “I thought
this contest would be a step, and this changes everything. I feel
like we are a part of Sweet Adelines that is still evolving. I think
this is about much more than singing well for one week.”
She paused and looked around her chorus.
“This moves me. It always has.”
The International stage is frightening and intoxicating all at once.
The previous chorus has finished competing, but it’s not quite
your time. In the audience, your friends are stirring. They begin
to chant your name. They cajole the folks around them to join in.
You stand in the dark, breathing deeply, taking it in and holding
it at bay. You’re pretty sure the noise is rising, but maybe
that’s really the sound of blood in your veins. Around you,
familiar faces toss a thumb’s-up, a “good luck”
wink. A nod, and it’s time to go. A few quick steps into the
white-hot light and life will burst open at your feet. But right
here, in this second, you are suspended in the in-between and you
say to yourself, “I will never, ever be the same.”
That dream you forgot from long ago? It just whispered again.
“Live.”
