A Big Day… Or Just Another Day?
- Tanya Lawrence
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read
Today is a big day. Well - almost.
It’s the technical and dress rehearsal for the Women Rockin’ Harmony Choirs® summer show.
This one-night-only performance is the result of five months of commitment: weekly full choir rehearsals, focused sectional sessions, and countless hours of individual practice at home.
For around 80% of the singers who started this journey back in January, this marks a thrilling milestone. For the rest, it’ll be just another evening - perhaps spent relaxing at home, watching TV, or doing something else entirely.
You see, not everyone who begins a show project with us makes it to the stage. And that’s okay. Life happens, priorities shift, and sometimes, our choir just isn’t the right fit. But those who do complete the journey become part of something special - a team of people who kept showing up, who stayed the course, who saw it through.
Joining a choir sounds like fun - and it is, especially for those who have the right mindset: a love of music, a spirit of teamwork, and a willingness to rise to the challenge. But let’s be honest - there are challenges.
We perform without lyric sheets, so learning the words is a must. Then there’s the harmony work. I provide learning tracks for all voice parts, but it takes discipline to use them regularly. Without that, progress stalls, frustration builds, and the joy can quickly fade. That’s usually when the first few singers quietly disappear.
Then comes the choreography. Many are excited by our movement work at first - until they realise that keeping up with the group patterns requires focus, repetition, and a bit of physical stamina. That’s where we usually see a couple more departures, usually around the halfway mark.
By that point, we’ve generally got the team who will see the show through. It’s when solo auditions happen, staging takes shape, and something magical begins to emerge. The energy lifts. Friendships form. Trust deepens. And the excitement becomes contagious.
Even so, I’ve learned - after more than 40 years of leading choirs - to plan for the occasional eleventh-hour leaver. It might be fear, overwhelm, illness, or life getting in the way. Sometimes, a singer reaches the final few weeks and realises they simply can’t face the lights, the audience, the spotlight.
While that decision is often made quietly, it can leave ripples. When someone who was a steady presence suddenly pulls out, others can feel shaken. The people who stood beside them may feel a bit abandoned. That’s a completely natural response. But in every case, I’ve seen the team recalibrate. New bonds are forged. Gaps are filled. The sense of unity among those who remain only grows stronger.
And for those who do make it all the way? The reward is extraordinary. The confidence that comes from completing something that once felt daunting, perhaps getting to grips with an unfamiliar musical genre or mastering a complex, multipart harmony. The shared triumph of creating something bigger than yourself. The joy of knowing: we did it.
Of course, sometimes a choir member simply doesn’t click with the musical director’s style - and that’s perfectly fine. We’re all different. The important thing is to find a choir (and a leader) whose energy, expectations, and approach feel right. There’s no shame in exploring until you do.
As for me, I’m focused on this show, this fabulous team, and this milestone. After the performance, we’ll celebrate together, take a well-earned break, and then the cycle begins again. In September, we’ll welcome back returning members, and open our doors to new faces. Some will stay for a few weeks, others for a few months. A few will make it all the way to the next performance.
It’s a pattern I’ve come to accept - just like the changing seasons. In every group, there are starters, and there are completers. And it is always, without exception, an honour to lead the completers onto the stage.

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