I am a strong proponent of getting a mature sound out of my choirs. I don't expect my middle school choir or my high school choir to sound like mature adults, but I do want them to sound as mature as they possibly can. How do I get that mature sound? I am convinced that achieving it is a result of two things: a high soft palate as well as a nice open throat.
Did you ever pretend to sing like an opera star when you were a child? If you did, think back on how you achieved that "opera" sound. More than likely you opened your throat and raised your soft palate high. That is how I did it, anyway. When I am talking to my choirs about getting a mature sound, I have them all "pretend" to be an opera singer. I have them bend their arms and clasp their hands in front of them to get in the proper mindset, and then I have them sing. Do they sound like opera stars? Definitely not. However, have they achieved getting a mature sound? You betcha.
I am always quick to tell my singers that I am not going to make them sound like an opera singer. For most of the students, sounding like an opera singer would definitely not be something they desired. However, I am quick to point out to them how much more mature they sounded. I then tell them to act as though they are sipping through a straw or to try and yawn. Both of these are excellent ways to get their soft palate raised and their throat open. Once they experience that, I continually remind them of it as they sing their songs.
I have adjudicated at many choir competitions. I am always amazed at how many of the choirs have a very young sound, especially girls' choirs. As I am writing comments, I point out their immature sound and give the director suggestions on how to get a more mature sound from their group. I don't know if the director pays any attention to my suggestions, because I'm not sure that they recognize the immature sound or if they want to change it. However, I will continue to point it out and make those suggestions. You never know, maybe those suggestions will be the thing that changes the overall sound of many of the choirs. It's a chance I believe is worth taking.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
The Purpose of Concerts
I recently spent two months in Riga, Latvia, where I attended as many choir concerts as possible. As you may know, Latvian choirs are some of the best in the world, so the concerts I attended were done by fantastic choirs. While I certainly enjoyed them, they also made me pause and reflect on the purpose of and the reason for giving concerts.
While I believe that concerts are done to highlight the achievements and the ability of a choir, I also believe very strongly that they should be done to entertain the audience. The concerts I attended in Latvia did a great job of highlighting the hard work and the capability of the choirs. Did they entertain? I'm not sure. I think that most of the people in the audience were musically educated and had attended many such choir concerts in the past. Consequently, I believe that they were entertained by the music. However, if I tried to perform the same kind of music with my community choir, I know that the audience would be frustrated and bored. While I am sure that some of my audience is musically educated, I am pretty certain that the majority of them are not. Such "high falutin' " music would not appeal to them.
I have a Doctor of Arts degree in choral conducting, so choral music like the ones the groups in Latvia performed greatly appeal to me. Do I wish I could do music like that with my choirs? You betcha. Do I dare try it? Nope. I might be able to throw in a piece or two, but any more than that would cause the boredom level of the concert to rise off the charts. It wouldn't be long and we wouldn't have much of an audience.
We do have one concert in the spring that is considered our "classical" concert. This year we performed Rutter's Gloria. With it being such a short work -- only 20 minutes in length -- I decided to also include some of Rutter's other music. I chose five of his choir pieces, and I made sure that they would be some that the audience would enjoy. We ended that segment of the concert with his arrangement of "When the Saints Go Marching In." I made sure to get a trombone and a clarinet to play the instrumental parts to add to the Dixieland flavor of the song. Boy, did the audience love that one. They also enjoyed the Gloria. Would that same audience enjoy our performance of a Requiem Mass? While I think some of them would appreciate the hard work of the choir and would enjoy the music, I think a lot of them would not enjoy the overall concert.
In my mind, a successful concert is one in which the choir performs at their best but is also one that entertains the audience. Would all choir conductors agree? Most certainly not. However, in my part of the country -- the Midwest -- and with my typical audience -- mostly blue collar -- entertainment value is high on the priority list. This fall we performed a concert of country music. Did I find some "high falutin' " music for that one? Nope. Did I have trouble selecting the music knowing what I do about quality music? You betcha. Was it a successful concert? Definitely. They're still talking about that one.
While I believe that concerts are done to highlight the achievements and the ability of a choir, I also believe very strongly that they should be done to entertain the audience. The concerts I attended in Latvia did a great job of highlighting the hard work and the capability of the choirs. Did they entertain? I'm not sure. I think that most of the people in the audience were musically educated and had attended many such choir concerts in the past. Consequently, I believe that they were entertained by the music. However, if I tried to perform the same kind of music with my community choir, I know that the audience would be frustrated and bored. While I am sure that some of my audience is musically educated, I am pretty certain that the majority of them are not. Such "high falutin' " music would not appeal to them.
I have a Doctor of Arts degree in choral conducting, so choral music like the ones the groups in Latvia performed greatly appeal to me. Do I wish I could do music like that with my choirs? You betcha. Do I dare try it? Nope. I might be able to throw in a piece or two, but any more than that would cause the boredom level of the concert to rise off the charts. It wouldn't be long and we wouldn't have much of an audience.
We do have one concert in the spring that is considered our "classical" concert. This year we performed Rutter's Gloria. With it being such a short work -- only 20 minutes in length -- I decided to also include some of Rutter's other music. I chose five of his choir pieces, and I made sure that they would be some that the audience would enjoy. We ended that segment of the concert with his arrangement of "When the Saints Go Marching In." I made sure to get a trombone and a clarinet to play the instrumental parts to add to the Dixieland flavor of the song. Boy, did the audience love that one. They also enjoyed the Gloria. Would that same audience enjoy our performance of a Requiem Mass? While I think some of them would appreciate the hard work of the choir and would enjoy the music, I think a lot of them would not enjoy the overall concert.
In my mind, a successful concert is one in which the choir performs at their best but is also one that entertains the audience. Would all choir conductors agree? Most certainly not. However, in my part of the country -- the Midwest -- and with my typical audience -- mostly blue collar -- entertainment value is high on the priority list. This fall we performed a concert of country music. Did I find some "high falutin' " music for that one? Nope. Did I have trouble selecting the music knowing what I do about quality music? You betcha. Was it a successful concert? Definitely. They're still talking about that one.
My Passion
The google dictionary defines passion as an "intense desire or enthusiasm for something," or as "a thing that arouses enthusiasm." Many people have hobbies that they consider to be passions. Many other people are passionate about sports. I am passionate about choirs -- conducting choirs, to be exact.
I have loved music since I was a child first learning to sing in Sunday school. I can remember robustly singing those little choruses and praise songs. As I got older, I learned to play the flute, and it soon became my passion. In fact, I went to college as a flute major, hoping to set the world on fire with my beautiful playing. Unfortunately, my private teacher and I just didn't click, and my self esteem as a flutist took a nosedive. I got to the point where I couldn't even play in front of people. As a result, I left college to explore other paths. Fortunately, my love of music drew me back to college, and at the age of 35, I finally received my B. S. in music education -- this time with a choral emphasis.
I luckily found a job teaching MS/HS choir, and I was on top of the world. Soon, though, I realized that my "dream" job was instead a nightmare. I should have realized that something was amiss during my interview, when all the administration discussed was my classroom management skills. It also should have clicked when they told me how a former female teacher had failed miserably, but that a male teacher had come in and saved the day. After three years of torment, I decided that life was too short to hate my job, so I left the teaching world and went back into business.
I worked in the office for a year, but realizing that having a boss who probably made ten times the income I made and knowing that I was the one who helped him be successful didn't sit well. I stayed there a year but then decided to return to school for my graduate degree. I didn't have any particular goal in mind; I just knew that, along with my love of music, I loved going to school and that I was good at it. I was able to complete my Master's degree in one year, but I still didn't know what I wanted to do, so I stayed on for my doctorate. It was during graduate school that I realized how very much I enjoyed directing choirs. At that point, my passion was clear -- I had an "intense desire or enthusiasm" for helping choirs reach their highest potential and create beautiful music.
I have directed choirs of all kinds since getting my degree, and I have loved every one of them. I was recently selected as the Artistic Director of a community choir, and I absolutely love working with that group. They are a motley assortment of people from all walks of life, and, while some of them have a musical education, most of them do not. I get so much enjoyment listening to them as they first begin to learn their parts and then hearing them progress to a performance level. Knowing that they have created and performed a beautiful piece of music together gives them such joy and satisfaction, and I love knowing that I helped them find that joy and satisfaction.
I love directing my choirs. It truly is my passion.
I have loved music since I was a child first learning to sing in Sunday school. I can remember robustly singing those little choruses and praise songs. As I got older, I learned to play the flute, and it soon became my passion. In fact, I went to college as a flute major, hoping to set the world on fire with my beautiful playing. Unfortunately, my private teacher and I just didn't click, and my self esteem as a flutist took a nosedive. I got to the point where I couldn't even play in front of people. As a result, I left college to explore other paths. Fortunately, my love of music drew me back to college, and at the age of 35, I finally received my B. S. in music education -- this time with a choral emphasis.
I luckily found a job teaching MS/HS choir, and I was on top of the world. Soon, though, I realized that my "dream" job was instead a nightmare. I should have realized that something was amiss during my interview, when all the administration discussed was my classroom management skills. It also should have clicked when they told me how a former female teacher had failed miserably, but that a male teacher had come in and saved the day. After three years of torment, I decided that life was too short to hate my job, so I left the teaching world and went back into business.
I worked in the office for a year, but realizing that having a boss who probably made ten times the income I made and knowing that I was the one who helped him be successful didn't sit well. I stayed there a year but then decided to return to school for my graduate degree. I didn't have any particular goal in mind; I just knew that, along with my love of music, I loved going to school and that I was good at it. I was able to complete my Master's degree in one year, but I still didn't know what I wanted to do, so I stayed on for my doctorate. It was during graduate school that I realized how very much I enjoyed directing choirs. At that point, my passion was clear -- I had an "intense desire or enthusiasm" for helping choirs reach their highest potential and create beautiful music.
I have directed choirs of all kinds since getting my degree, and I have loved every one of them. I was recently selected as the Artistic Director of a community choir, and I absolutely love working with that group. They are a motley assortment of people from all walks of life, and, while some of them have a musical education, most of them do not. I get so much enjoyment listening to them as they first begin to learn their parts and then hearing them progress to a performance level. Knowing that they have created and performed a beautiful piece of music together gives them such joy and satisfaction, and I love knowing that I helped them find that joy and satisfaction.
I love directing my choirs. It truly is my passion.
Practice Makes Perfect
“Prince, what you are you are by accident of birth; what I am, I am through my own efforts. There have been thousands of princes and will be thousands more, but there is only one Beethoven!”
I really like this quote from Beethoven, because it states what I have believed all along -- you are responsible for your own success. How do you achieve it? As Beethoven says, through your own efforts.
When I first went to college, I was a flute major. I began playing the flute in the 5th grade, and I was absolutely entranced by it. I can remember practicing it for hours each day. When I entered the 6th grade, I can remember my instructor giving me a high school march booklet -- the kind that was played at school ballgames -- and I took it home and learned how to play them all. I would play them until I learned them, and then I didn't want to play them anymore. The challenge of learning them was no longer there, so they no longer held my interest. As I grew older, my interest in the flute continued, although my intense practice schedule did not. While I took private lessons and still continued to practice, my teenage life tended to get in the way, preventing me from practicing for hours each day.
I have shared this in an earlier post, but I will mention it here, as well. When I went off to college, I was one of two lucky freshman students who got to study with the primary flute instructor. While you may think that was a real honor -- I certainly did -- it ended up being the worst thing that could happen to me. Somehow he was able to destroy my self-esteem as a flutist. My hours of practice each day were clearly not helping. My confidence in my ability was destroyed. During my sophomore year, when my degree required that I perform in front of my peers, I couldn't do it. I knew that if I couldn't play in front of people, I couldn't continue with my study. Consequently, I dropped out of college.
That's not the end of my story, because I went back to college years later and opted to study voice. When I auditioned, I was assigned to study with one of the adjunct voice instructors. While I thought I was a pretty good singer, my audition evidently proved otherwise. I was not given major status; I was given double minor status. This was not a good situation, as I was now at a late sophomore/early junior level in my college studies, and I needed to be at a major status. My instructor shared with me early in my study with her that she was the only teacher who was willing to work with me; no one else thought I would be successful. That statement made me determined to succeed. What did I do? I practiced, and I practiced, and I practiced some more. At the end of the first semester, I was required to do a voice jury. I went into it with confidence, and my practice paid off. I was given major status in voice.
Many people attribute their musical success to genetics. Neither of my parents were musically talented, nor did my two older sisters show any interest in music. I was not exposed to music as a child; the only music I ever heard was at church. The children of the church would sing choruses together at the beginning of the Sunday school hour, and I loved that time. It was my chance to learn some songs, and I loved them all. My choice to play the flute was the beginning of my real exposure to music. My teacher at school wanted my parents to send me to Interlochen to study during the summer, but, with my mother and father being blue-collar employees and having five children to feed, the expense made it impossible. I wonder to this day how my life would be different if I could have gone there.
While singing continued to be my major course of study, I soon discovered that conducting choirs was my true passion -- so much so that I ended up going back to school and getting my Master's degree and a Doctor of Arts degree in choral conducting. To this day, stepping in front of a choir and helping them to reach their greatest potential through song is what I love most. While I cannot attribute my success with choral conducting to genetics, I can say that I have a lot of natural ability. Where it came from, I don't know.
As a music teacher, I believe that one of the greatest habits we can instill in our students is the desire to practice as well as understand the need for it. As a voice teacher, I find that getting my voice students to practice is more difficult than it would be if I were an instrumental teacher. Singing tends to come too easily to us, whereas learning to play all the right notes on an instrument can take some time and effort. Also, if the students aren't musically educated, can't read music and don't know the piano (or don't have access to one), they have no idea on which pitch to start. I have found that making a recording of the song on the piano helps them to practice more effectively.
I am now on the verge of 60 years of age. If I could live my life over again, the one thing that I would do differently is approach music much more seriously. I would practice even more than I did, and I would do everything I could to not let my teacher ruin my self-esteem as a flute player. I often find myself wanting to pick up my flute and play. While I can certainly still play, I know that my ability now is nowhere near where it used to be, and it makes me sad. However, I also know that if I would practice more, I would become much better at it. Unfortunately, as an adult, my work life interferes with my time to practice. I also know, though, that we find time to do the things we really want to do, so why am I sitting here blogging when I should be practicing my flute?
Later...
I really like this quote from Beethoven, because it states what I have believed all along -- you are responsible for your own success. How do you achieve it? As Beethoven says, through your own efforts.
When I first went to college, I was a flute major. I began playing the flute in the 5th grade, and I was absolutely entranced by it. I can remember practicing it for hours each day. When I entered the 6th grade, I can remember my instructor giving me a high school march booklet -- the kind that was played at school ballgames -- and I took it home and learned how to play them all. I would play them until I learned them, and then I didn't want to play them anymore. The challenge of learning them was no longer there, so they no longer held my interest. As I grew older, my interest in the flute continued, although my intense practice schedule did not. While I took private lessons and still continued to practice, my teenage life tended to get in the way, preventing me from practicing for hours each day.
I have shared this in an earlier post, but I will mention it here, as well. When I went off to college, I was one of two lucky freshman students who got to study with the primary flute instructor. While you may think that was a real honor -- I certainly did -- it ended up being the worst thing that could happen to me. Somehow he was able to destroy my self-esteem as a flutist. My hours of practice each day were clearly not helping. My confidence in my ability was destroyed. During my sophomore year, when my degree required that I perform in front of my peers, I couldn't do it. I knew that if I couldn't play in front of people, I couldn't continue with my study. Consequently, I dropped out of college.
That's not the end of my story, because I went back to college years later and opted to study voice. When I auditioned, I was assigned to study with one of the adjunct voice instructors. While I thought I was a pretty good singer, my audition evidently proved otherwise. I was not given major status; I was given double minor status. This was not a good situation, as I was now at a late sophomore/early junior level in my college studies, and I needed to be at a major status. My instructor shared with me early in my study with her that she was the only teacher who was willing to work with me; no one else thought I would be successful. That statement made me determined to succeed. What did I do? I practiced, and I practiced, and I practiced some more. At the end of the first semester, I was required to do a voice jury. I went into it with confidence, and my practice paid off. I was given major status in voice.
Many people attribute their musical success to genetics. Neither of my parents were musically talented, nor did my two older sisters show any interest in music. I was not exposed to music as a child; the only music I ever heard was at church. The children of the church would sing choruses together at the beginning of the Sunday school hour, and I loved that time. It was my chance to learn some songs, and I loved them all. My choice to play the flute was the beginning of my real exposure to music. My teacher at school wanted my parents to send me to Interlochen to study during the summer, but, with my mother and father being blue-collar employees and having five children to feed, the expense made it impossible. I wonder to this day how my life would be different if I could have gone there.
While singing continued to be my major course of study, I soon discovered that conducting choirs was my true passion -- so much so that I ended up going back to school and getting my Master's degree and a Doctor of Arts degree in choral conducting. To this day, stepping in front of a choir and helping them to reach their greatest potential through song is what I love most. While I cannot attribute my success with choral conducting to genetics, I can say that I have a lot of natural ability. Where it came from, I don't know.
As a music teacher, I believe that one of the greatest habits we can instill in our students is the desire to practice as well as understand the need for it. As a voice teacher, I find that getting my voice students to practice is more difficult than it would be if I were an instrumental teacher. Singing tends to come too easily to us, whereas learning to play all the right notes on an instrument can take some time and effort. Also, if the students aren't musically educated, can't read music and don't know the piano (or don't have access to one), they have no idea on which pitch to start. I have found that making a recording of the song on the piano helps them to practice more effectively.
I am now on the verge of 60 years of age. If I could live my life over again, the one thing that I would do differently is approach music much more seriously. I would practice even more than I did, and I would do everything I could to not let my teacher ruin my self-esteem as a flute player. I often find myself wanting to pick up my flute and play. While I can certainly still play, I know that my ability now is nowhere near where it used to be, and it makes me sad. However, I also know that if I would practice more, I would become much better at it. Unfortunately, as an adult, my work life interferes with my time to practice. I also know, though, that we find time to do the things we really want to do, so why am I sitting here blogging when I should be practicing my flute?
Later...
Friday, June 6, 2014
The "Eyes" Have It
I recently won a $10,000 grant to travel to Latvia and study the country's great choral music. I have been here for almost three weeks, and I have had the opportunity to hear some wonderful ensembles. This small country -- about the size of West Virginia -- has a phenomenal number of excellent choirs. I am impressed every time I hear one of them.
While listening to and watching one of these wonderful auditioned choirs at a concert this evening, I noticed something that was very distracting. There were at least two singers who did not keep their eyes on the conductor while singing. I was shocked when I noticed it. Here was a talented, experienced ensemble who has won many awards, and their conductor deals with some of the same problems I do!
I am constantly having to remind my school groups that they are not to look at the audience while they are singing; they are to keep their eyes on me at all times. They look at me with puzzlement on their faces and say, "Why? Aren't we supposed to relate to the audience?" Yes, but there are right ways to relate to the audience, and there are wrong ways.
If you are in a choir, and a conductor is standing in front of you, you need to be looking only at that conductor and nothing else. Why? There are several reasons.
1) Your conductor is basically recreating the music in the air with his or her gestures. It is up to you to watch those gestures so that you will know what the conductor wants from you. While he has rehearsed the music with you enough that you should know it, there is always the chance that the conductor may want something different the night of the performance.
2) Being in a choir is about being a part of a group. As the audience looks at the singers, they expect to see a uniform group. Being uniform means that everyone looks at the same thing -- the conductor. If the audience sees a singer or two not looking at the conductor, that person detracts or takes away from the uniformity of the ensemble.
3) Not only does it take away from the uniformity of the choir, it is also a distraction. When the audience is looking at the choir and they see you looking around while everyone else is watching the director, you become a distraction for them. You are not doing what you are "supposed" to be doing, and they notice it.
4) Singers are supposed to relate to the audience through the conductor. All emotions and "messages" should go through the conductor and then funnel out to the audience. It creates a flow, and when one person looks away, the flow is broken.
These reasons apply only if a conductor is standing in front of the ensemble. The minute that conductor steps away, then it is necessary for you to communicate directly to the audience. The audience expects it at that point and will be disappointed if you don't.
Being a member of a choir means that you are a member of an ensemble, a group of singers. It is not about "you," but about the group, and everything you do should be for the betterment of the group. Don't let your individuality be a detriment to the group's success.
While listening to and watching one of these wonderful auditioned choirs at a concert this evening, I noticed something that was very distracting. There were at least two singers who did not keep their eyes on the conductor while singing. I was shocked when I noticed it. Here was a talented, experienced ensemble who has won many awards, and their conductor deals with some of the same problems I do!
I am constantly having to remind my school groups that they are not to look at the audience while they are singing; they are to keep their eyes on me at all times. They look at me with puzzlement on their faces and say, "Why? Aren't we supposed to relate to the audience?" Yes, but there are right ways to relate to the audience, and there are wrong ways.
If you are in a choir, and a conductor is standing in front of you, you need to be looking only at that conductor and nothing else. Why? There are several reasons.
1) Your conductor is basically recreating the music in the air with his or her gestures. It is up to you to watch those gestures so that you will know what the conductor wants from you. While he has rehearsed the music with you enough that you should know it, there is always the chance that the conductor may want something different the night of the performance.
2) Being in a choir is about being a part of a group. As the audience looks at the singers, they expect to see a uniform group. Being uniform means that everyone looks at the same thing -- the conductor. If the audience sees a singer or two not looking at the conductor, that person detracts or takes away from the uniformity of the ensemble.
3) Not only does it take away from the uniformity of the choir, it is also a distraction. When the audience is looking at the choir and they see you looking around while everyone else is watching the director, you become a distraction for them. You are not doing what you are "supposed" to be doing, and they notice it.
4) Singers are supposed to relate to the audience through the conductor. All emotions and "messages" should go through the conductor and then funnel out to the audience. It creates a flow, and when one person looks away, the flow is broken.
These reasons apply only if a conductor is standing in front of the ensemble. The minute that conductor steps away, then it is necessary for you to communicate directly to the audience. The audience expects it at that point and will be disappointed if you don't.
Being a member of a choir means that you are a member of an ensemble, a group of singers. It is not about "you," but about the group, and everything you do should be for the betterment of the group. Don't let your individuality be a detriment to the group's success.
The Power of a Conductor
I recently read a post about the power that a conductor has over his or her ensemble. The article stated that no other position has similar authority. The president has to consult with his cabinet before making a decision, a baseball manager has to report to his general manager, and a CEO has to report to his shareholders. However, a conductor has been entrusted with the authority to make decisions for his ensemble on his/her own, without consulting with anyone.
As a choral conductor, I agree that I have power over my ensemble. In fact, I am constantly amazed at how much power I have. There are times that it is downright scary. If the singers are too loud, I ask them to sing softer, and they do -- no questions asked. If I want crisper diction, I ask for it, and they deliver. If I want a more flowing, legato sound, I show them with my gestures, and they produce it. All of this is done without argument.
While wielding all of that power is great, it can also be disastrous. During a performance, if I give the choir a cutoff, they cut off -- even if it's in the wrong place. If my gestures indicate that the basses are supposed to come in, they will come in, even if it's in the wrong spot. Once a mistake like that is made, the choir looks to me, their leader, to fix it. If I can't fix it, then the performance is ruined.
My singers have entrusted me with their success. They are willing to follow me because they believe that I will help them be the best that they can be. I am the expert -- that's why I am their leader. While some conductors may take advantage of that role and use it for their own success and glory, I find it to be very humbling. The fact that my choir has chosen me to lead them is the greatest honor they can give me. It is an honor that I accept with the deepest gratitude and humility.
As a choral conductor, I agree that I have power over my ensemble. In fact, I am constantly amazed at how much power I have. There are times that it is downright scary. If the singers are too loud, I ask them to sing softer, and they do -- no questions asked. If I want crisper diction, I ask for it, and they deliver. If I want a more flowing, legato sound, I show them with my gestures, and they produce it. All of this is done without argument.
While wielding all of that power is great, it can also be disastrous. During a performance, if I give the choir a cutoff, they cut off -- even if it's in the wrong place. If my gestures indicate that the basses are supposed to come in, they will come in, even if it's in the wrong spot. Once a mistake like that is made, the choir looks to me, their leader, to fix it. If I can't fix it, then the performance is ruined.
My singers have entrusted me with their success. They are willing to follow me because they believe that I will help them be the best that they can be. I am the expert -- that's why I am their leader. While some conductors may take advantage of that role and use it for their own success and glory, I find it to be very humbling. The fact that my choir has chosen me to lead them is the greatest honor they can give me. It is an honor that I accept with the deepest gratitude and humility.
Monday, March 10, 2014
I Never Wanted to be a Cheerleader
There are times when my high school choir sucks, and this is one of them. In fact, this whole month has been like that. I don't know if it's the weather (we're all really tired of winter here in Indiana) or what, but my choir looks and sounds like dead fish. Their singing lacks energy, and the sound coming out of them projects about a foot and then falls to the floor. The problem is that I don't know if they even realize it or not, and no matter what I say or do, I can't get them to perk up or even act like they're enjoying themselves.
On days like today, I don't feel like a choir director -- I feel like a cheerleader or a team captain. My players are sluggish, we're losing the game big time, and I have to say something that will turn things around. The trouble is, I don't know what to say or do. I cajole them; it does no good. I encourage them; it does no good. I jump around and act silly in front of them; it makes no difference. They just sit there and look at me like I'm some weirdo. I am forever looking for new ways to say what I want them to do, thinking that if I just say it the right way, it will "click." So far, nothing has worked.
I was not a cheerleader in school. I never had the desire to be one. Unfortunately, I am being forced to be one with my high school choir. I am usually a very positive person, and I go out of my way to praise the choir when they do something well. It has been very difficult to stay positive this time. In fact, when we were discussing the situation in class one day, one of my students said something about approaching things more positively. I thanked her for her suggestion, apologized to the entire group for not being positive, and went in the next day determined to keep a positive mindset, be upbeat, and put on my "cheerleader" face. Did it help any? I don't think it helped the music get any better, but I do think the kids had more fun that day. I guess fun is good, isn't it?
My choir will never be as good as I would like them to be. After all, the group has everything in it from students who have never sung in a choir before to those who have several years experience. Unfortunately, it is in my "genes" to try and make them as good as they can be. I want to push them to higher heights. I want to raise the bar. I just have to find a way to get them to go with me.
We have a concert in a week. Before each concert, I tell the students that, while I want them to sing their best, what I want more than anything is for them to have fun and enjoy themselves. I sincerely believe that, if a choir is enjoying itself when performing, an audience will enjoy listening to them. This time, I may have to rely on that to carry the performance. We have another week, and we'll keep working. I'll let you know how it turns out.
Go, choir! Sis-boom-bah!
I was not a cheerleader in school. I never had the desire to be one. Unfortunately, I am being forced to be one with my high school choir. I am usually a very positive person, and I go out of my way to praise the choir when they do something well. It has been very difficult to stay positive this time. In fact, when we were discussing the situation in class one day, one of my students said something about approaching things more positively. I thanked her for her suggestion, apologized to the entire group for not being positive, and went in the next day determined to keep a positive mindset, be upbeat, and put on my "cheerleader" face. Did it help any? I don't think it helped the music get any better, but I do think the kids had more fun that day. I guess fun is good, isn't it?
My choir will never be as good as I would like them to be. After all, the group has everything in it from students who have never sung in a choir before to those who have several years experience. Unfortunately, it is in my "genes" to try and make them as good as they can be. I want to push them to higher heights. I want to raise the bar. I just have to find a way to get them to go with me.
We have a concert in a week. Before each concert, I tell the students that, while I want them to sing their best, what I want more than anything is for them to have fun and enjoy themselves. I sincerely believe that, if a choir is enjoying itself when performing, an audience will enjoy listening to them. This time, I may have to rely on that to carry the performance. We have another week, and we'll keep working. I'll let you know how it turns out.
Go, choir! Sis-boom-bah!
The Day My Choir Saved Me
My community choir loves John Rutter. That affection stems from the fact that, several years ago, they traveled to New York's Carnegie Hall and were fortunate, along with other choirs, to sing his Requiem under his direction. Although it was several years ago, it was an experience that they still have not forgotten. Any time I mention music by John Rutter, they still sing his praises.
For that reason, I decided to have them perform Rutter's Gloria at their Classical concert this year. Because the work is not very long, we needed to sing other music, also. Since Rutter has written such a plethora of choral music, I decided to focus the entire concert on Rutter's music. We called the concert "All Things Rutter."
I had sung Rutter's Gloria, and I had also conducted it in my graduate studies. However, I had never actually conducted the piece with a group. I was excited. I love the work. I love the fact that the instruments used are brass, timpani, and an organ. I love the excitement of the first and last movements and the haunting beauty of the second movement. I was truly looking forward to having the choir perform it.
We planned to start working on the music when we returned after our Christmas break. Unfortunately, our very first rehearsal was canceled due to snow. In addition, two other rehearsals were canceled either due to the snow or the bitter cold. Our rehearsal efforts were definitely being impinged upon by Mother Nature. Being the good sports that they are, the choir members were willing to double up our efforts and meet two times a week for a few weeks to make up for the missed rehearsals. We worked diligently on the music. While it was not perfect by any means, it was very performable, and I was quite proud of the group's efforts. The dress rehearsal the day before the show went well, and I was feeling very good about the concert.
The weekend of the concert arrived, and as had happened every weekend prior, there was a threat of an accumulation of snow. Should we cancel the concert? Can we go ahead with it? Will anyone come? These were all questions that were running through our minds. The snow held off, however, and we went ahead with the concert.
I normally prepare very well for my concerts. I rehearse the group thoroughly, and I usually practice conducting the music at home. On large works, I usually go through and painstakingly mark my score. While I had listened to the Rutter many times, for some reason, I had not ever practiced conducting it at home. I also did not mark the score as much as I usually do. I'm not sure why these things weren't done -- all I know is that they didn't get done.
The concert began, and we sang the individual Rutter pieces first. They all went very well. The Gloria was the last thing on the concert -- except for our encore piece "When the Saints Come Marching In." The brass were ready, the choir was ready, and off we went. Somewhere in the first movement, I lost my focus and concentration, and I didn't bring the choir in at one of their entrances. I brought them in a measure late. Luckily, the singers were all looking at me (as they are supposed to), and no one came in early -- or on time, anyway. They all waited for me to bring them in. While I doubt that the audience was even aware of the slip up, I was, and they were, and that was bad enough. Unfortunately, the instruments just kept right on playing. They had no way of knowing that I had messed up, so they continued to play their parts. Luckily, we came up to a measure or two of rest shortly after that, and I was able to get the choir back on track.
I was not happy with myself at all after that slip up, but I had only myself to blame. I had not practiced the piece sufficiently at home by myself, nor had I adequately marked my music. If I had done those things, would the performance have gone differently? I'll never know for sure, but I'm guessing that the mistake would probably not have happened if I had. One thing is for sure, I will always be sure to practice at home as well as mark my music! It was a lesson well learned.
Will this one error on my part be the end of my conducting career? Of course not. I will hopefully conduct many more pieces like the Gloria with my choir. In fact, I hope I can continue to conduct until I can no longer stand in front of the choir. No matter how many more concerts I conduct, though, I will always remember this one and how easy it is to lose focus and miss an entrance. I will also always remember this one because it was the day that the choir saved me from suffering embarrassment and humiliation. Had they not been watching me, many of them would probably have come in on time while the rest of them waited for me, and the situation would have been a lot worse. Fortunately, like the well-trained choir that they are, they waited for me so that we could all come in together. I will be forever grateful to them.
Gee, does that mean that I can at least take credit for training them to watch their conductor?
For that reason, I decided to have them perform Rutter's Gloria at their Classical concert this year. Because the work is not very long, we needed to sing other music, also. Since Rutter has written such a plethora of choral music, I decided to focus the entire concert on Rutter's music. We called the concert "All Things Rutter."
I had sung Rutter's Gloria, and I had also conducted it in my graduate studies. However, I had never actually conducted the piece with a group. I was excited. I love the work. I love the fact that the instruments used are brass, timpani, and an organ. I love the excitement of the first and last movements and the haunting beauty of the second movement. I was truly looking forward to having the choir perform it.
We planned to start working on the music when we returned after our Christmas break. Unfortunately, our very first rehearsal was canceled due to snow. In addition, two other rehearsals were canceled either due to the snow or the bitter cold. Our rehearsal efforts were definitely being impinged upon by Mother Nature. Being the good sports that they are, the choir members were willing to double up our efforts and meet two times a week for a few weeks to make up for the missed rehearsals. We worked diligently on the music. While it was not perfect by any means, it was very performable, and I was quite proud of the group's efforts. The dress rehearsal the day before the show went well, and I was feeling very good about the concert.
The weekend of the concert arrived, and as had happened every weekend prior, there was a threat of an accumulation of snow. Should we cancel the concert? Can we go ahead with it? Will anyone come? These were all questions that were running through our minds. The snow held off, however, and we went ahead with the concert.
I normally prepare very well for my concerts. I rehearse the group thoroughly, and I usually practice conducting the music at home. On large works, I usually go through and painstakingly mark my score. While I had listened to the Rutter many times, for some reason, I had not ever practiced conducting it at home. I also did not mark the score as much as I usually do. I'm not sure why these things weren't done -- all I know is that they didn't get done.
The concert began, and we sang the individual Rutter pieces first. They all went very well. The Gloria was the last thing on the concert -- except for our encore piece "When the Saints Come Marching In." The brass were ready, the choir was ready, and off we went. Somewhere in the first movement, I lost my focus and concentration, and I didn't bring the choir in at one of their entrances. I brought them in a measure late. Luckily, the singers were all looking at me (as they are supposed to), and no one came in early -- or on time, anyway. They all waited for me to bring them in. While I doubt that the audience was even aware of the slip up, I was, and they were, and that was bad enough. Unfortunately, the instruments just kept right on playing. They had no way of knowing that I had messed up, so they continued to play their parts. Luckily, we came up to a measure or two of rest shortly after that, and I was able to get the choir back on track.
I was not happy with myself at all after that slip up, but I had only myself to blame. I had not practiced the piece sufficiently at home by myself, nor had I adequately marked my music. If I had done those things, would the performance have gone differently? I'll never know for sure, but I'm guessing that the mistake would probably not have happened if I had. One thing is for sure, I will always be sure to practice at home as well as mark my music! It was a lesson well learned.
Will this one error on my part be the end of my conducting career? Of course not. I will hopefully conduct many more pieces like the Gloria with my choir. In fact, I hope I can continue to conduct until I can no longer stand in front of the choir. No matter how many more concerts I conduct, though, I will always remember this one and how easy it is to lose focus and miss an entrance. I will also always remember this one because it was the day that the choir saved me from suffering embarrassment and humiliation. Had they not been watching me, many of them would probably have come in on time while the rest of them waited for me, and the situation would have been a lot worse. Fortunately, like the well-trained choir that they are, they waited for me so that we could all come in together. I will be forever grateful to them.
Gee, does that mean that I can at least take credit for training them to watch their conductor?
Sunday, February 23, 2014
The Music of Latvia
How many of you have heard of the country of Latvia? It sits on the Baltic Sea and is below Estonia and above Lithuania. It is a small country -- only slightly larger than West Virginia. However, from that small country comes some of the best choral music in the world.
I discovered Latvia during graduate school, when I did a lecture recital on the music of Imant Raminsh. In my interview with him, Mr. Raminsh shared with me that he was from the country of Latvia. As we continued our conversation, he began talking about the important role that folk music -- and music in general -- plays in the Latvian culture. After talking to him, I decided that if I ever had the chance, I would travel to Latvia.
Well, this week, that chance became a reality. I was awarded a $10,000 Teacher Creativity grant through the Eli Lilly Endowment fund, and in May, I leave for Riga, Latvia to spend nine weeks immersing myself in the country's choral music tradition. While there, I will visit the public schools and observe music education classes, I will visit private music schools where thousands of children and adults study privately, I will attend the rehearsals and concerts of some of Latvia's well-known adult choirs, I will interview Latvian choral composers and visit a music publishing house, I will attend worship services and experience worship music in some of the wonderful cathedrals there, and I will attend some folk music festivals. Last, but certainly not least, I will attend some of the World Choir Games to be held in Riga in July.
Am I excited? You betcha! Am I scared? Darn tootin'! However, I am confident that my experience there will be one of the most unforgettable times of my life. If you have never before heard the music of Latvian choirs, I invite you to find some of their music on the Internet and listen to it. I assure you that the music will be some of the best choral music that you have ever heard and will move you to a higher spiritual place than you have ever been.
I discovered Latvia during graduate school, when I did a lecture recital on the music of Imant Raminsh. In my interview with him, Mr. Raminsh shared with me that he was from the country of Latvia. As we continued our conversation, he began talking about the important role that folk music -- and music in general -- plays in the Latvian culture. After talking to him, I decided that if I ever had the chance, I would travel to Latvia.
Well, this week, that chance became a reality. I was awarded a $10,000 Teacher Creativity grant through the Eli Lilly Endowment fund, and in May, I leave for Riga, Latvia to spend nine weeks immersing myself in the country's choral music tradition. While there, I will visit the public schools and observe music education classes, I will visit private music schools where thousands of children and adults study privately, I will attend the rehearsals and concerts of some of Latvia's well-known adult choirs, I will interview Latvian choral composers and visit a music publishing house, I will attend worship services and experience worship music in some of the wonderful cathedrals there, and I will attend some folk music festivals. Last, but certainly not least, I will attend some of the World Choir Games to be held in Riga in July.
Am I excited? You betcha! Am I scared? Darn tootin'! However, I am confident that my experience there will be one of the most unforgettable times of my life. If you have never before heard the music of Latvian choirs, I invite you to find some of their music on the Internet and listen to it. I assure you that the music will be some of the best choral music that you have ever heard and will move you to a higher spiritual place than you have ever been.
Monday, January 13, 2014
The Teacher Who Made Me Give Up My Instrument
I'm going to step away from the choral platform for a moment today and talk about working with students individually in the private studio. As teachers, we are told time and time again that there are different types of learners with which we will be working when we start teaching in the classroom. Some of them will be visual learners ("let me watch you do it"), some learn better aurally ("tell me the steps to take"), and some work better kinesthetically ("let me try to do it myself"). From experience, I am here to tell you that there are important differences in the way that you deal with your private students as well.
When I went to college, I was one of only two freshman students who were given the opportunity to study with the head instructor in my area. All of the other freshmen would be studying with his assistants. I was thrilled! All my years of studying and working hard were going to pay off after all.
I do need to tell you this -- I had gone to a relatively small high school and had been the top dog on my instrument since I had been a freshman. I had been what you would call a big fish in a little pond, and I was used to getting accolades from various people. My private instructor had been an excellent teacher, and she was good at encouraging me and giving me the occasional praise that I needed.
I began studying with the head instructor at the university. His teaching style was totally different than my former private teacher's. His instruction was constantly negative, and he would point out things about my physical appearance that hampered my playing (my fleshy lips -- by the way, I've never been told I had fleshy lips by anyone else, ever; my crooked teeth -- yes, I did get braces a few years later, but my teeth certainly weren't bad enough to hamper my playing). I very rarely heard anything positive come out of his mouth, and my relationship with him was totally unlike any of my former private instructors.
I managed to study with him for a little over a year. However, by that time, my self esteem as an instrumentalist was decimated. According to my teacher, I couldn't do anything right. I went from being one of two top freshmen players to being unable to play in front of anyone. My only choice at the time was to quit school. After all, how can you be a music major when you can't even play your instrument in front of anyone? I tried another major area of study -- which was a complete waste of time -- but then decided to leave college all together. Guess who called me when I decided to quit? My teacher. He just couldn't believe that I would want to give it all up. He was very complimentary -- at that point. Unfortunately, it was too late.
It took me over ten years to pick up my instrument again. Remember, this was an instrument that at one time had given me so much pleasure that I would spend hours a day playing it. I can remember the first time I played it at church probably 15 years after I left school. I was so excited, because I had finally conquered the fear that had trapped me all of those years. I continue to play occasionally, reminding myself that, while I am not very good at it anymore, I can at least continue to share my God-given talent with anyone who will listen.
All of this is being shared with you to give you some insight into working with your private students. While some students may have enough confidence in their own playing that they don't need positive feedback and or compliments, many of them don't. It is up to us as their instructors to use a positive approach while teaching them and to be as complimentary as possible when they deserve it. Our students' egos may be fragile, and I doubt that any of us want to be the one to be known as "the teacher who made me give up my instrument."
Oh, by the way, I didn't stay down for long. I went back to school several years later and finished my undergraduate degree -- in choral music this time. I taught for a few years and then went back to get my Masters degree and my Doctorate. While the events that happened to me were tragic, they taught me an important lesson -- that negativity has no place in a private lesson. If I can't give a student some praise and some positive feedback, then I need to refer that student to someone who can. Their musical lives depend on it.
When I went to college, I was one of only two freshman students who were given the opportunity to study with the head instructor in my area. All of the other freshmen would be studying with his assistants. I was thrilled! All my years of studying and working hard were going to pay off after all.
I do need to tell you this -- I had gone to a relatively small high school and had been the top dog on my instrument since I had been a freshman. I had been what you would call a big fish in a little pond, and I was used to getting accolades from various people. My private instructor had been an excellent teacher, and she was good at encouraging me and giving me the occasional praise that I needed.
I began studying with the head instructor at the university. His teaching style was totally different than my former private teacher's. His instruction was constantly negative, and he would point out things about my physical appearance that hampered my playing (my fleshy lips -- by the way, I've never been told I had fleshy lips by anyone else, ever; my crooked teeth -- yes, I did get braces a few years later, but my teeth certainly weren't bad enough to hamper my playing). I very rarely heard anything positive come out of his mouth, and my relationship with him was totally unlike any of my former private instructors.
I managed to study with him for a little over a year. However, by that time, my self esteem as an instrumentalist was decimated. According to my teacher, I couldn't do anything right. I went from being one of two top freshmen players to being unable to play in front of anyone. My only choice at the time was to quit school. After all, how can you be a music major when you can't even play your instrument in front of anyone? I tried another major area of study -- which was a complete waste of time -- but then decided to leave college all together. Guess who called me when I decided to quit? My teacher. He just couldn't believe that I would want to give it all up. He was very complimentary -- at that point. Unfortunately, it was too late.
It took me over ten years to pick up my instrument again. Remember, this was an instrument that at one time had given me so much pleasure that I would spend hours a day playing it. I can remember the first time I played it at church probably 15 years after I left school. I was so excited, because I had finally conquered the fear that had trapped me all of those years. I continue to play occasionally, reminding myself that, while I am not very good at it anymore, I can at least continue to share my God-given talent with anyone who will listen.
All of this is being shared with you to give you some insight into working with your private students. While some students may have enough confidence in their own playing that they don't need positive feedback and or compliments, many of them don't. It is up to us as their instructors to use a positive approach while teaching them and to be as complimentary as possible when they deserve it. Our students' egos may be fragile, and I doubt that any of us want to be the one to be known as "the teacher who made me give up my instrument."
Oh, by the way, I didn't stay down for long. I went back to school several years later and finished my undergraduate degree -- in choral music this time. I taught for a few years and then went back to get my Masters degree and my Doctorate. While the events that happened to me were tragic, they taught me an important lesson -- that negativity has no place in a private lesson. If I can't give a student some praise and some positive feedback, then I need to refer that student to someone who can. Their musical lives depend on it.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Diversity at Christmas
I recently got an email from a parent complaining about the lack of diversity in my elementary Christmas program. My students sang several well-known holiday songs, and I made sure I added a Hanukkah song in the list. However, this parent, who is Jewish, didn't think adding a single Hanukkah song was enough diversity. His suggestion was that I find songs that represent several holidays around the world and use the program as a learning experience for both the students and the audience.
This is an issue that many music teachers face. Our world is getting more and more diverse all the time, but our music programs often have the same type of music in them that they have had for years and years. Granted, we purchase new music each year, but it generally centers around the same theme -- Christmas and Santa Claus. There are a few "pre-packaged" programs that feature different types of music, but very few. We want to continue with our holiday programs, but we also want to keep our parents (and administrators) happy. What are we to do?
If you go to Wikipedia and look up winter holidays, you will be given an extensive list of holidays that occur in the winter months. Besides Christmas, three of the most well-known ones are Las Posadas, Kwanzaa, and Hanukkah. Hanukkah music can be found in abundance, and Kwanzaa music is also starting to become easier to find. Finding Las Posadas music that young children can sing is difficult.
Last year my older students did a program that included music that dealt with all of the above listed holidays. It was a very well written program, and the students loved it. However, it was far too difficult for my younger students. I couldn't find a similar program for my younger students, so I ended up having them perform a short musical that centered around Christmas and Santa Claus.
As our world becomes more diverse, I think that composers who write for young children will begin to incorporate a wider variety of diverse music. I was looking at the website of a well-known music company where many music teachers purchase their music. There were a few holiday musicals that dealt with Christmas around the world, but the majority of them were for older elementary students. It is my hope that, in the future, more of them will be written for younger children.
The father who complained about my program has a 2nd grader and a kindergartener. My programs are usually divided as K-2 and 3-5, so his daughters were both in the younger group this year. Next year they will be in both. Should my choice of music be influenced by the complaints of one parent? In my case, I think it depends on who the parent is. Oh, by the way, this father's email was also sent to my administrator. She contacted me last week and wants to meet with me to discuss my winter concerts. I have a feeling that next year's concerts will include a wider variety of music.
This is an issue that many music teachers face. Our world is getting more and more diverse all the time, but our music programs often have the same type of music in them that they have had for years and years. Granted, we purchase new music each year, but it generally centers around the same theme -- Christmas and Santa Claus. There are a few "pre-packaged" programs that feature different types of music, but very few. We want to continue with our holiday programs, but we also want to keep our parents (and administrators) happy. What are we to do?
If you go to Wikipedia and look up winter holidays, you will be given an extensive list of holidays that occur in the winter months. Besides Christmas, three of the most well-known ones are Las Posadas, Kwanzaa, and Hanukkah. Hanukkah music can be found in abundance, and Kwanzaa music is also starting to become easier to find. Finding Las Posadas music that young children can sing is difficult.
Last year my older students did a program that included music that dealt with all of the above listed holidays. It was a very well written program, and the students loved it. However, it was far too difficult for my younger students. I couldn't find a similar program for my younger students, so I ended up having them perform a short musical that centered around Christmas and Santa Claus.
As our world becomes more diverse, I think that composers who write for young children will begin to incorporate a wider variety of diverse music. I was looking at the website of a well-known music company where many music teachers purchase their music. There were a few holiday musicals that dealt with Christmas around the world, but the majority of them were for older elementary students. It is my hope that, in the future, more of them will be written for younger children.
The father who complained about my program has a 2nd grader and a kindergartener. My programs are usually divided as K-2 and 3-5, so his daughters were both in the younger group this year. Next year they will be in both. Should my choice of music be influenced by the complaints of one parent? In my case, I think it depends on who the parent is. Oh, by the way, this father's email was also sent to my administrator. She contacted me last week and wants to meet with me to discuss my winter concerts. I have a feeling that next year's concerts will include a wider variety of music.
My community choir board is struggling. We have been working hard at making sure our bylaws are followed and making any necessary changes to keep them up to date. However, we have run into some gray areas that we aren't sure how to handle. Those gray areas have to do with attendance.
Our bylaws state that members must attend at least 80% of the rehearsals in order to sing at a concert. They must also attend the dress rehearsal. We have four concerts a year, and they happen approximately 7-8 weeks apart. We generally have one extra Saturday rehearsal for each concert, so let's say that we have nine rehearsals per concert. If we figure 80% of 9 rehearsals, every member must attend at least seven rehearsals in order to be able to participate in a concert. That means that everyone can miss two rehearsals and still participate in the concert.
This particular bylaw was put into place many years ago to make sure that choir members took rehearsal attendance seriously. Board members wanted to guarantee that every member of the choir knew the music well if they performed at the concert, and they also wanted to make sure choir members didn't "flit in" and "flit out" and expect to be able to sing at a concert. Unfortunately, we have had some situations where choir members have sung at a concert without attending the required number of rehearsals, and the board is trying to do a better job of keeping track of attendance to make sure those things no longer happen. We have already had situations where we have had to tell members that they couldn't sing at a concert due to lack of the required attendance.
We are now facing a situation where one of our officers is taking a trip to Australia and will miss three rehearsals. She is an excellent singer and is also a former music teacher, so she knows how to read music. In fact, she has already been studying the music and feels that she knows it well. However, with her missing three rehearsals, she will not be able to attend the required 80%. The board has to decide whether to dismiss her from the concert or make an exception for her. If we don't allow her to sing at the concert, we will be "shooting ourselves in the foot," as the old saying goes, because her strong voice adds a lot to the soprano section. However, if we make an exception for her, that means that we have to make exceptions for everyone else. What a conundrum. We are having a board meeting in another week, and this particular issue is on the agenda to be discussed.
Bylaws are necessary. Without them, choirs would have members who didn't attend regularly, who didn't pay their dues, and who weren't committed to the success of the ensemble. However, there are times when the bylaws themselves create problems. That's when the board has to take their jobs seriously and sit down and make some decisions.
I'm not sure how this situation will turn out. As the director, I am a non-voting member of the board, so my thoughts don't always make a difference. I am hoping that the board will decide to allow her to sing, especially since she has already been rehearsing the music. Nevertheless, I do know that if we make an exception for her, we may have to make exceptions for others.
Readers, do you belong to a community choir? If so, how would your group handle this situation? We would value any input that you can give.
Our bylaws state that members must attend at least 80% of the rehearsals in order to sing at a concert. They must also attend the dress rehearsal. We have four concerts a year, and they happen approximately 7-8 weeks apart. We generally have one extra Saturday rehearsal for each concert, so let's say that we have nine rehearsals per concert. If we figure 80% of 9 rehearsals, every member must attend at least seven rehearsals in order to be able to participate in a concert. That means that everyone can miss two rehearsals and still participate in the concert.
This particular bylaw was put into place many years ago to make sure that choir members took rehearsal attendance seriously. Board members wanted to guarantee that every member of the choir knew the music well if they performed at the concert, and they also wanted to make sure choir members didn't "flit in" and "flit out" and expect to be able to sing at a concert. Unfortunately, we have had some situations where choir members have sung at a concert without attending the required number of rehearsals, and the board is trying to do a better job of keeping track of attendance to make sure those things no longer happen. We have already had situations where we have had to tell members that they couldn't sing at a concert due to lack of the required attendance.
We are now facing a situation where one of our officers is taking a trip to Australia and will miss three rehearsals. She is an excellent singer and is also a former music teacher, so she knows how to read music. In fact, she has already been studying the music and feels that she knows it well. However, with her missing three rehearsals, she will not be able to attend the required 80%. The board has to decide whether to dismiss her from the concert or make an exception for her. If we don't allow her to sing at the concert, we will be "shooting ourselves in the foot," as the old saying goes, because her strong voice adds a lot to the soprano section. However, if we make an exception for her, that means that we have to make exceptions for everyone else. What a conundrum. We are having a board meeting in another week, and this particular issue is on the agenda to be discussed.
Bylaws are necessary. Without them, choirs would have members who didn't attend regularly, who didn't pay their dues, and who weren't committed to the success of the ensemble. However, there are times when the bylaws themselves create problems. That's when the board has to take their jobs seriously and sit down and make some decisions.
I'm not sure how this situation will turn out. As the director, I am a non-voting member of the board, so my thoughts don't always make a difference. I am hoping that the board will decide to allow her to sing, especially since she has already been rehearsing the music. Nevertheless, I do know that if we make an exception for her, we may have to make exceptions for others.
Readers, do you belong to a community choir? If so, how would your group handle this situation? We would value any input that you can give.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
A Choir Conundrum
Have you ever thought about a concert? Not preparing for one, not conducting one, but this thing called a "concert." If you think about it, a concert is a moment in time. We prepare our choir for it, and we hope that they do a great job. However, once a concert is done, it's done. We can't take it back; there is no "do-over." In other words, what you hear is what you get. If our singers do well, bravo! If not...well, we'll pull ourselves up by our boot straps and move on to the next concert. That's all we can do.
Unfortunately, we are often judged by the performance of our choirs. Granted, if we aren't doing a very good job directing our choirs, then more than likely they will give a mediocre performance. However, even if we are the greatest choir director in the world, sometimes our choirs are "off" for some reason and their performance is a mediocre one. After all, we all have good years and bad years - good years when our choirs are awesome and have fantastic singers and bad years when we struggle with inexperienced singers who are trying their hardest but just aren't up for the task.
I envy those of you who are able to have select, auditioned choirs at your school. I don't have that option. I teach at a K-12 school, and the biggest part of my day is teaching elementary music. Consequently, I have only one middle school choir and one high school choir. My middle school choir contains beginning 6th-grade singers as well as experienced (as experienced as they can be, anyway) 8th-grade singers. My high school choir includes students who have never sung in a choir along with those who have sung for many years. This mix of students makes it very difficult to predict how good my choir is going to be. In addition, because our school only has a six-period day, many students do not have time in their schedules to participate in choir every year, so my turnover rate from year to year is extremely high. This last year I had five students return from the previous year. That means that 25 of my 30 students were either new to me or had taken a hiatus from choir for at least a year.
Each year I start with great hopes and expectations. Each year I get a reality check: their "bar" is a lot lower than mine. I am left with the conundrum of what to do. How do I take this diverse group of singers and keep them all motivated while keeping them all challenged? All I can do is start where they are and begin to work with them, hoping to raise them closer to my "bar." I work them hard, and they tackle the music with gusto. As we get closer to a concert, I remind them that they are their worst enemies. They are the only ones who limit their potential. If they don't think they can do it, they won't. If they think they can...well, the sky is the limit.
We get to the concert. Do they do a good job? Yes. They don't let me down -- they usually do as well as they possibly can. Are they a great choir? No. Are there other choirs that are better? Sure. However, I couldn't be any prouder of them than if they were the greatest choir in the land. They have done all that I have asked them to do, and they have succeeded. The pride in their faces is evident. They have worked together as a team and conquered their fear of failing. They have created beautiful music together, and, after all, isn't that what singing in a choir is all about?
It's the end of the first semester and the start of the second. I am losing nine of my 30 singers due to schedule conflicts. Am I sad? You betcha. This group has been one of my best. They have worked hard, and they have had great fun while doing so. Can I change the situation? No. All I can do is hope for some new students who will step in and fill the gaps. When I last checked with the office, the class had 30 students in it for this semester. That means that I have picked up nine singers who will replace the nine who had to leave. Will these 30 students sound the same? Nope. The group is now a different one, so we'll have to start all over again and see if I can get their "bar" as high as that of the last group. Can I do it? Check back in May, and I'll let you know.
Unfortunately, we are often judged by the performance of our choirs. Granted, if we aren't doing a very good job directing our choirs, then more than likely they will give a mediocre performance. However, even if we are the greatest choir director in the world, sometimes our choirs are "off" for some reason and their performance is a mediocre one. After all, we all have good years and bad years - good years when our choirs are awesome and have fantastic singers and bad years when we struggle with inexperienced singers who are trying their hardest but just aren't up for the task.
I envy those of you who are able to have select, auditioned choirs at your school. I don't have that option. I teach at a K-12 school, and the biggest part of my day is teaching elementary music. Consequently, I have only one middle school choir and one high school choir. My middle school choir contains beginning 6th-grade singers as well as experienced (as experienced as they can be, anyway) 8th-grade singers. My high school choir includes students who have never sung in a choir along with those who have sung for many years. This mix of students makes it very difficult to predict how good my choir is going to be. In addition, because our school only has a six-period day, many students do not have time in their schedules to participate in choir every year, so my turnover rate from year to year is extremely high. This last year I had five students return from the previous year. That means that 25 of my 30 students were either new to me or had taken a hiatus from choir for at least a year.
Each year I start with great hopes and expectations. Each year I get a reality check: their "bar" is a lot lower than mine. I am left with the conundrum of what to do. How do I take this diverse group of singers and keep them all motivated while keeping them all challenged? All I can do is start where they are and begin to work with them, hoping to raise them closer to my "bar." I work them hard, and they tackle the music with gusto. As we get closer to a concert, I remind them that they are their worst enemies. They are the only ones who limit their potential. If they don't think they can do it, they won't. If they think they can...well, the sky is the limit.
We get to the concert. Do they do a good job? Yes. They don't let me down -- they usually do as well as they possibly can. Are they a great choir? No. Are there other choirs that are better? Sure. However, I couldn't be any prouder of them than if they were the greatest choir in the land. They have done all that I have asked them to do, and they have succeeded. The pride in their faces is evident. They have worked together as a team and conquered their fear of failing. They have created beautiful music together, and, after all, isn't that what singing in a choir is all about?
It's the end of the first semester and the start of the second. I am losing nine of my 30 singers due to schedule conflicts. Am I sad? You betcha. This group has been one of my best. They have worked hard, and they have had great fun while doing so. Can I change the situation? No. All I can do is hope for some new students who will step in and fill the gaps. When I last checked with the office, the class had 30 students in it for this semester. That means that I have picked up nine singers who will replace the nine who had to leave. Will these 30 students sound the same? Nope. The group is now a different one, so we'll have to start all over again and see if I can get their "bar" as high as that of the last group. Can I do it? Check back in May, and I'll let you know.
Why I Do What I Do
Whew! That one word says it all. My last three weeks have been crazy as I prepared my various choirs for all of their concerts. The fact that I survived them with a smile on my face is quite a feat in and of itself. I'm sure many of you feel the same way.
As musicians, the month of December is a hectic time in our schedules. We rush around frantically working with all of our choirs and preparing them for their concerts. The big night comes, and we climb up on the podium and hope and pray that all of our preparation will pay off. We smile and speak with members of the audience as they come up and tell us how much they enjoyed the concert. We shake hands and pat the backs of the VIPs that attend our concerts, trying to keep our administrators and boards happy. We hug our singers and tell them what a great job they did. Then, when the last person has left and we are by ourselves, we finally breathe a sigh of relief and relax -- but not for long. It's time to start looking through the music we have picked for our next concert and deciding how we are going to approach it during our rehearsals.
And so it goes... The cycle never stops, except perhaps during the summer hiatus that most of our groups take. Even then, we are always thinking ahead and selecting music for our next year's concerts and meeting with our board getting ready for the next season. Do we ever totally shut down? Do we ever fully separate ourselves from our role as choir director? Maybe some of you can. Unfortunately, I can't seem to do it.
Why do I do what I do? Why do I choose a vocation that consumes me like this? Why do I love taking a motley group of people and creating beautiful music with them? David Ackert, a reporter with the LA Times, says it far better than I ever could:
"Musicians are some of the most driven, courageous people on the face of the earth. They deal with more day-to-day rejection in one year than most people do in a lifetime. With every note, they stretch themselves, emotionally and physically, risking criticism and judgment. Why? Because musicians are willing to give their entire lives to a moment - to that melody, that lyric, that chord, or that interpretation that will stir the audience's soul. Musicians are beings who have tasted life's nectar in that crystal moment when they poured out their creative spirit and touched another's heart. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they know that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes."
Wow! Couldn't have said it better myself!
As musicians, the month of December is a hectic time in our schedules. We rush around frantically working with all of our choirs and preparing them for their concerts. The big night comes, and we climb up on the podium and hope and pray that all of our preparation will pay off. We smile and speak with members of the audience as they come up and tell us how much they enjoyed the concert. We shake hands and pat the backs of the VIPs that attend our concerts, trying to keep our administrators and boards happy. We hug our singers and tell them what a great job they did. Then, when the last person has left and we are by ourselves, we finally breathe a sigh of relief and relax -- but not for long. It's time to start looking through the music we have picked for our next concert and deciding how we are going to approach it during our rehearsals.
And so it goes... The cycle never stops, except perhaps during the summer hiatus that most of our groups take. Even then, we are always thinking ahead and selecting music for our next year's concerts and meeting with our board getting ready for the next season. Do we ever totally shut down? Do we ever fully separate ourselves from our role as choir director? Maybe some of you can. Unfortunately, I can't seem to do it.
Why do I do what I do? Why do I choose a vocation that consumes me like this? Why do I love taking a motley group of people and creating beautiful music with them? David Ackert, a reporter with the LA Times, says it far better than I ever could:
"Musicians are some of the most driven, courageous people on the face of the earth. They deal with more day-to-day rejection in one year than most people do in a lifetime. With every note, they stretch themselves, emotionally and physically, risking criticism and judgment. Why? Because musicians are willing to give their entire lives to a moment - to that melody, that lyric, that chord, or that interpretation that will stir the audience's soul. Musicians are beings who have tasted life's nectar in that crystal moment when they poured out their creative spirit and touched another's heart. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they know that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes."
Wow! Couldn't have said it better myself!
Taking a break...
It's the holidays -- that two weeks around Christmas and New Years when everything shuts down. My church choir takes a two-week break, my community choir takes a break until January, and my teaching job takes a two-week hiatus. There's no doubt that I need it. After six major rehearsals and nine concerts in December, I need a chance to rest and recuperate. I just wish I could enjoy it.
I miss my choirs. I miss their energy. I miss the camaraderie that we share. I miss their smiles. I miss their jokes and laughter. I miss the happiness I feel while I'm working with them. I miss their looks of joy when they accomplish something they didn't think they could do. Most of all, I miss the music that we make together.
Yes, directing my community choir is a job. Yes, I do get paid for it -- minimally, mind you -- so I guess that makes it a job. However, it's so much more than that. It's the very soul of who I am. If you could peer down into my very soul, you would see me there with my arms in the air and my singers creating beautiful music.
I hope that I never get too old to direct a choir. My hair may go gray (or grayer, I should say), my eyesight may weaken, my hearing may fail and cause me to wear a hearing aid, my teeth may fall out, my feet may shuffle as I walk to the podium (think Tim Conway), but I hope that, once I get up on that podium, I can still stand up in front of my choir and create beautiful music with them. Oh, by the way, after I leave this earthly body of mine, you will hopefully see my new svelte body standing in front of a choir of angels, waving my arms, and creating beautiful music.
I miss my choirs. I miss their energy. I miss the camaraderie that we share. I miss their smiles. I miss their jokes and laughter. I miss the happiness I feel while I'm working with them. I miss their looks of joy when they accomplish something they didn't think they could do. Most of all, I miss the music that we make together.
Yes, directing my community choir is a job. Yes, I do get paid for it -- minimally, mind you -- so I guess that makes it a job. However, it's so much more than that. It's the very soul of who I am. If you could peer down into my very soul, you would see me there with my arms in the air and my singers creating beautiful music.
I hope that I never get too old to direct a choir. My hair may go gray (or grayer, I should say), my eyesight may weaken, my hearing may fail and cause me to wear a hearing aid, my teeth may fall out, my feet may shuffle as I walk to the podium (think Tim Conway), but I hope that, once I get up on that podium, I can still stand up in front of my choir and create beautiful music with them. Oh, by the way, after I leave this earthly body of mine, you will hopefully see my new svelte body standing in front of a choir of angels, waving my arms, and creating beautiful music.
Why Sing in a Choir?
A choir [kwair] is defined as a musical ensemble of singers, a body of singers who perform together as a group. Choirs have been performing together since the 2nd century B.C., and they are still popular today. Why? What makes choirs an ensemble in which singers want to be involved.
The website GothamRockChoir.com says this about choirs:
"In the United States, choral singing is the most popular of all arts-related participatory activities. Across the country, 28.5 million people regularly sing in one of 250,000 chorus groups. It’s a group activity that seems to stand the test of time better than others, and there may be a very good reason why: Singing has some (positive) effects that other participatory activities don’t."
Singing has many positive effects on a person, both physical and mental. Here are just a few of them.
1) Singing improves your mood. When you're singing, you tend to forget about the negative things going on in your life.
2) Singing can keep you well. Scientists have proven that singing improves your immune system. If you don't want to catch that cold that everyone around you has, start singing!
3) Singing makes you happy. In a survey, choral singers rated their satisfaction with life higher than the general public, even when they had substantially bigger problems.
4) Singing decreases anxiety and depression. Singing helps us escape the moment and sends us to a place of peace and happiness. Music can touch us in ways that nothing else can.
5) Singing is very effective as a stress reliever and improves sleep. Because you are enjoying what you are doing while you sing, your stress level decreases, thus making it easier to sleep at night.
6) Singing plays a central role in your psychological health. Singing can have some of the same effects as exercise, like the release of endorphins, which give the singer an overall "lifted" feeling and are associated with stress reduction. It is also an aerobic activity, meaning it gets more oxygen into the blood for better circulation, which tends to promote a good mood.
7) Singing improves your posture. According to Graham Welch, director for advanced music education at London's Roehampton Institute, "When you break into song, your chest expands and your back and shoulders straighten, thus improving your posture." (Source: Barbership.org)
8) Singing can make you feel and sound younger. Mr. Welch also believes that, "Singing exercises the vocal cords and keeps them youthful, even in old age. The less age-battered your voice sounds, the more you will feel, and seem, younger."
9) Singing in a choir improves your concentration. As you learn new music, your concentration level is high. Once you learn the music, you still have to concentrate to make sure that you are singing the song correctly and to make sure that you are doing all of the things the conductor asked you to do.
10) Singing in a choir is good for your heart. In a study done in Sweden, it was found that choral singing increased the amount by which an individual's heart rate varied. This is a health benefit, because low variability is known to be related to high blood pressure.
The GothamRockChoir.com website poses this question about singing in a choir:
The question remains, though — why choral singing specifically? Concentra-
tion and deep breathing can happen in a recording studio, or in the privacy
of your own home. It’s because some of the most important ties between
singing and happiness are social ones. The support system of being part of
a group, and the commitment to that group that gets people out of the house
and into the choir every week — these are benefits that are specific to group
singing. And they seem to be a big component of why choral singers tend to
be happier than the rest of us. The feelings of belonging to a group, of being
needed by the other members of that group go a long way toward combating
the loneliness that often comes along with being human in modern times.
On the Barbershop.org website, Patty Mills was quoted as saying, "Singing fortifies health, widens culture, refines the intelligence, enriches the imagination, makes for happiness and endows life with an added zest." If you sing in the shower or sing along with the radio, consider taking this raw vocal skill to new heights. Music -- the "universal language" not only stirs our deepest emotions, but active participation can increase energy and vigor to see us through even the most stress-filled life commitments. In addition to physical benefits, here are some life-affirming benefits of singing:
1) Singing increases poise, self-esteem and presentation skills.
2) Singing broadens expressive communication.
3) Singing adds a rich, more pleasant quality to speech.
4) Singing animates the body, mind and spirit.
5) Singing stimulates insight into prose and poetry and piques interests in the inner meaning of words.
6) Singing is an ageless enjoyment -- you are never to young or too old.
The moral of the story? GET OUT THERE AND SING!
The website GothamRockChoir.com says this about choirs:
"In the United States, choral singing is the most popular of all arts-related participatory activities. Across the country, 28.5 million people regularly sing in one of 250,000 chorus groups. It’s a group activity that seems to stand the test of time better than others, and there may be a very good reason why: Singing has some (positive) effects that other participatory activities don’t."
POSITIVE EFFECTS OF SINGING IN A CHOIR
Singing has many positive effects on a person, both physical and mental. Here are just a few of them.
1) Singing improves your mood. When you're singing, you tend to forget about the negative things going on in your life.
2) Singing can keep you well. Scientists have proven that singing improves your immune system. If you don't want to catch that cold that everyone around you has, start singing!
3) Singing makes you happy. In a survey, choral singers rated their satisfaction with life higher than the general public, even when they had substantially bigger problems.
4) Singing decreases anxiety and depression. Singing helps us escape the moment and sends us to a place of peace and happiness. Music can touch us in ways that nothing else can.
5) Singing is very effective as a stress reliever and improves sleep. Because you are enjoying what you are doing while you sing, your stress level decreases, thus making it easier to sleep at night.
6) Singing plays a central role in your psychological health. Singing can have some of the same effects as exercise, like the release of endorphins, which give the singer an overall "lifted" feeling and are associated with stress reduction. It is also an aerobic activity, meaning it gets more oxygen into the blood for better circulation, which tends to promote a good mood.
7) Singing improves your posture. According to Graham Welch, director for advanced music education at London's Roehampton Institute, "When you break into song, your chest expands and your back and shoulders straighten, thus improving your posture." (Source: Barbership.org)
8) Singing can make you feel and sound younger. Mr. Welch also believes that, "Singing exercises the vocal cords and keeps them youthful, even in old age. The less age-battered your voice sounds, the more you will feel, and seem, younger."
9) Singing in a choir improves your concentration. As you learn new music, your concentration level is high. Once you learn the music, you still have to concentrate to make sure that you are singing the song correctly and to make sure that you are doing all of the things the conductor asked you to do.
10) Singing in a choir is good for your heart. In a study done in Sweden, it was found that choral singing increased the amount by which an individual's heart rate varied. This is a health benefit, because low variability is known to be related to high blood pressure.
The GothamRockChoir.com website poses this question about singing in a choir:
The question remains, though — why choral singing specifically? Concentra-
tion and deep breathing can happen in a recording studio, or in the privacy
of your own home. It’s because some of the most important ties between
singing and happiness are social ones. The support system of being part of
a group, and the commitment to that group that gets people out of the house
and into the choir every week — these are benefits that are specific to group
singing. And they seem to be a big component of why choral singers tend to
be happier than the rest of us. The feelings of belonging to a group, of being
needed by the other members of that group go a long way toward combating
the loneliness that often comes along with being human in modern times.
On the Barbershop.org website, Patty Mills was quoted as saying, "Singing fortifies health, widens culture, refines the intelligence, enriches the imagination, makes for happiness and endows life with an added zest." If you sing in the shower or sing along with the radio, consider taking this raw vocal skill to new heights. Music -- the "universal language" not only stirs our deepest emotions, but active participation can increase energy and vigor to see us through even the most stress-filled life commitments. In addition to physical benefits, here are some life-affirming benefits of singing:
1) Singing increases poise, self-esteem and presentation skills.
2) Singing broadens expressive communication.
3) Singing adds a rich, more pleasant quality to speech.
4) Singing animates the body, mind and spirit.
5) Singing stimulates insight into prose and poetry and piques interests in the inner meaning of words.
6) Singing is an ageless enjoyment -- you are never to young or too old.
The moral of the story? GET OUT THERE AND SING!
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