You Just Never Know......

The scouting motto, "Be prepared," is one that I try my best to live by in my artistic life.

On this past Sunday afternoon, at the last minute, I was asked to step in for a soloist who, seemingly, was not going to make it in time for the opening of a national convention. The request came to me some 10 minutes before the start of the program, while I was in a waiting area trying to line up with the choir with whom I was there to sing. I was there to sing in the chorus, not to solo.

The ironic thing is that someone suggested to me, days before, that if something went wrong at the opening event, and a soloist was needed at the last minute, I might be the one called upon as the substitute. I put no stock into that suggestion, whatsoever. I spoke with that same person, days later, and the last thing they said to me was, "Okay, Cimarron, make sure you bring some repertoire with you to the event." Well, on the morning of the event, as I was relaxing at home, I thought to myself, "Hmmm, let me pull two pieces from my rep, and look them over." So, I looked at Faure's Pie Jesu, and Margaret Bonds' He's Got the Whole World In His Hand. I marked through them, so as not to stress my voice before leaving to go sing in the chorus, and then I slipped them into my concert binder. I remember thinking to myself, "Why am I humoring this friend? There is no chance that I will be asked, at the last minute, to substitute as the soloist. However, you just never know."

During the opening minutes of the convention, as I sat in the choir loft of Bright Hope Baptist Church,  I was sure that the scheduled soloist had indeed arrived. Then I heard the emcee inform the audience that she was not able to make it, and that they had a "ram in the thicket" named, Cimarron Frazier. I thought to myself, "OMG, this is it." As I walked out of the choir loft and over to the front of the rostrum I saw the accompanist walking down the aisle towards the piano. I wanted to set the tempos of my two pieces with him, but I couldn't get near him because of the layout of the sanctuary. I remember our eyes locking, and I knew, instantly, that he was going to follow me, masterfully, and that setting tempos with him was not going to be necessary (although at the time I had no idea who he was).

I can honestly tell you that there was an energy emanating from that audience, and a spirit permeating the atmosphere that I felt to the marrow of my bones which made singing before them a wonderful moment for me. Many of the attendees approached me, at the end of the program, to congratulate me on a job well-done. As I thanked each and every one of them, I realized more, and more, what a gift the performing arts are to humanity, and what a joy it is to be a performing artist. Part of that joy, for me, is being able to connect with people through music.

We've all heard of instances like Sunday's happening to other people. I never thought it would happen to me. One of my former voice teachers - the late Graciella Silvain - often told me the importance of keeping my voice in top shape. She would say, "You must do something, everyday, with your voice, even if it's just 10 minutes of vocalising on days that you are tired, in order to keep your voice beautiful." That was her way of saying, "Be prepared."

I'm so glad I was prepared.

Me, with Joseph Joubert

Oh, by the way, Sunday's event was the opening of the 92nd Annual Convention of the National Association of Negro Musicians, the request to sing came from Marc Delano Jenkins, president of the Philadelphia branch, and I later learned that my accompanist was the magnificent, virtuoso pianist Joseph Joubert.