What's more exciting about Fall 2009 is, of course, none other than the Mouth Opening Ceremony of D67 Toastmasters Chorus Wednesday evening, September 23rd. Thirty toastmasters members will get together for the first time to venture into a world of MUSIC.
Toastmasters Rio Imamura of Kita-kyushu Toastmasters club wrote, "On Sat. August 29, Kitakyushu Toastmasters hosted the Division E Officers Training session, welcoming12 club officers (from Hiroshima to Miyazaki), District instructors and officials, totaling approximately 70 Toastmasters. During the reception time, Masaki Oshiumi and I had a chance to announce the D67 Fall Convention in November and the proposal we received from the newly organized Taipei Chorus Toastmasters to sing together songs of common interest at the opening, and asked their possible participation. The chartering ceremony picture was passed around."
George Yen kindly suggested five beautiful and funny names for D67 Toastmasters Chorus, Frogs of The Golden Pond; Li Li La La; The Croakers; The Wannabees; and The Toastees.
Now let's meet and greet fourteen chorus members in four voice parts: soprano, alto, tenor, and bass as follows,
Soprano: Linda Tseng, Michelle Liu, Jorie Wu, Trini Ding, Kate Hsu
Alto: Pamela Yang, Gina Fu, Lydia Lin, Maggie Chiu, Sherry Li
Tenor: Ron Chen, Erick Suen
Bass: George Yen
Four voice parts sing in a different range, and each part has a very different personality. According to Guide to Choir Singers by un unknown author, the four voice parts can be easily distinguished. Wow, that certainly tickles my curious nervers to know more about our fellow toastmasters from the musical point of view!
The sopranos sing the highest, therefore they think they rule the world. They have longer hair, fancier jewellery, and swishier skirts. Sopranos have varied attitudes toward the other sections of the chorus, though they consider all of them inferior. Altos are to sopranos rather like second violins to first violins - nice to harmonise with but not really necessary. All sopranos have a secret feeling that the altos could drop out and the piece would sound essentially the same, and they don't understand why anybody would sing in that range in the first place - it's so boring.
The altos are the salt of the earth. Altos are unassuming people who would wear jeans to concerts if they were allowed to. Altos are in a unique position in the chorus in that they are unable to complain about having to sing either very high or very low, and they know that all the other sections think their parts are pitifully easy. They know that while the sopranos are screeching away on a high A, they are being forced to sing elaborate passages full of sharps and flats and tricks of rhythm, and nobody is noticing because the sopranos are singing too loudly. Altos get a deep, secret pleasure out of conspiring together to tune the sopranos flat. Altos have an innate distrust of tenors, because the tenors sing in almost the same range and think they sound better. Altos like the basses and enjoy singing duets with them - the basses just sound like a rumble anyway, and it's the only time the altos can really be heard. Altos' other complaint is that there are always too many of them and so they never get to sing really loudly.
The tenors are spoiled. For one thing, there are never enough of them, and choir directors would rather sell their souls than let a half decent tenor quit, while they're always ready to unload a few altos at half price. And then, for some reason, the few tenors there are always really good - it's one of those annoying facts of life. So it's no wonder that tenors always get swollen heads - after all, who else can make sopranos swoon? Tenors have a love-hate relationship with the conductor, because the conductor is always telling them to sing louder because there are so few of them. Tenors feel threatened by the sopranos because they can hit those incredibly high notes; by the altos because they have no trouble singing the notes the tenors kill themselves for; and by the basses because although they can't sing anything above an E, they sing it loudly enough to drown out the tenors. Tenors move their eyebrows more than anyone else while singing.
The basses sing the lowest part. This basically explains everything. They are stolid, dependable people and have more facial hair than anybody else. The basses feel perpetually unappreciated, but they have a deep conviction that they are actually the most important part. Despite the fact that they have the most boring part and often sing the same note (or in endless fifths) for an entire page. They compensate for this by singing as loudly as they can get away with - most basses are tuba players at heart. Basses make horrible faces when trying to hit very low notes. When a bass makes a mistake, the other three parts will cover him, and he can continue on his merry way, knowing that sometime, somehow, he will end up at the root of the chord.
I am an alto and I agree what it is said above, funny but true. While waiting patiently and ardently for sixteen more chorus members to take the challenge to join the chorus to voice out in harmony in District 67, I solicit your assistance in spreading the recruitment news to all toastmasters around you who are interested in singing and expressing themselves in Magical Do Re Mi.
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