Dr. O's Favorite Christmas Song

Seems like everyone is jumping on the Christmas recording bandwagon these days. Chipmunks. Muppets. Opera singers. Rock stars. Some of their musical offerings succeed (some cuts off of Sting's IF ON A WINTER'S NIGHT are quite lovely!); some, not so much (we won't name names).

Yet, if you ask me what my favorite Christmas song is, my answer might surprise you. It doesn't have a complicated melody. It doesn't have flash and a complex rhythmic structure. It is hauntingly simple. Many think it came from an anonymous Appalachian source. However, it was actually penned in 1933 by the folklorist and singer, John Jacob Nile. According to Ron Pen in his book, "A Kentucky Christmas" (University Press of Kentucky, 2003, pp. 200-201), Niles heard a young girl named Annie Morgan, sing a repeated line of music at a religious meeting in the Appalachians (North Carolina). She was beautiful but obviously very poor. But, according to Pen, she could sing and Niles took those brief lines and came up with the tune that we now know as "I wonder as I wander".

I have a very strong childhood memory. One of the things I would love to do was to slip out of the house after a snowfall at dusk. Everything was blanketed with snow and sound was muffled; lights were kind of impressionistic in their quality. And I wanted to be the first to walk in the blank snow canvas. Then I'd sit on the swingset, looking back at my footprints, and sing this song. Or maybe I didn't sing it and I only now superimpose that song on that memory. Either way, the song is my favorite. The lyrics are:

1. I wonder as I wander out under the sky,How Jesus the Savior did come for to die.For poor on'ry people like you and like I...I wonder as I wander out under the sky.

2. When Mary birthed Jesus 'twas in a cow's stall,With wise men and farmers and shepherds and all.But high from God's heaven a star's light did fall,And the promise of ages it then did recall.

3. If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing,A star in the sky, or a bird on the wing,Or all of God's angels in heav'n for to sing,He surely could have it, 'cause he was the King.

And, if you will forgive this indulgence, I've included a link where you can hear my childhood favorite singer, Barbra Streisand, singing this song. It is followed by a link where you can hear the New York Voices perform the same song (much jazzier version). They are sent out to you tonight as we anticipate the celebration of the birth of our Lord. Peace and Love to you all.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXZM0F30vQI

http://www.last.fm/music/New+York+Voices/_/I+Wonder+As+I+Wander

Giving Thanks

I'm so very excited about our music (the choral music of John Rutter) for next term...I thought it appropriate to quote Cecil F. Alexander's 1848 poem on this Thanksgiving Eve. Most all choral folks have sung Rutter's arrangement of ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL before...it is a simple thought but one that is needed in our chaotic, frantic, and fast-paced world! Happy Thanksgiving, peeps!

Refrain:All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,

All things wise and wonderful:

The Lord God made them all.

Each little flow’r that opens,

Each little bird that sings,

He made their glowing colors,

He made their tiny wings.

The purple-headed mountains,

The river running by,

The sunset and the morning

That brightens up the sky.

The cold wind in the winter,

The pleasant summer sun,

The ripe fruits in the garden,

He made them every one.

The tall trees in the greenwood,

The meadows where we play,

The rushes by the water,

To gather every day.

He gave us eyes to see them,

And lips that we might tell

How great is God Almighty,

Who has made all things well.

Harmony

This might be the shortest blog post ever recorded. Here goes . . .

This is the choir.

This is the choir after the best dress rehearsal ever.

Any questions?

Our perfect world

Back to Tharp, folks. Page 135. Here are her ground rules to make, what she calls, "our perfect world". And I quote (her words in italics, mine in plain type:)

Quiet. (Wow, I harp on that in rehearsals, don't I? You are getting ever so much better about listening and keeping extraneous comments to yourself. Not perfect, but better).

No one present who does not belong--no observers (Here I part company with her; I really like it when folks come in to listen. There is a heightened sense of awareness of in the singers...like they are immediately thrust into performance mode. That's a GOOD thing).

All the time in the world. No worry that you will be thrown out or that you will go into overtime. (Would that we had that luxury. I am tied to a 50 minute rehearsal timeframe. It limits me. It limits you. But it is what it is. That's why we go to sectionals and try and find private practice time).

No goal other than to try things. (again, would that we all take risks and plunge ahead, instead of waiting for the person next to us to take the initiative. Kind of like my daughter did when she took a photo of this river and then digitally altered it to look like a watercolor. She experimented; she tried a new technique and it worked!).

No fear of failure; nothing will fail. (Gosh, I like this. It has alway been my goal to create a safe haven in the choral room. Where we lift each other up. Where we never make fun of someone else's weaknesses until we claim to have none of our own.)

No obligations other than to do your best (AMEN!)

We entertain each other; I challenge them, and they challenge me (YES! AMEN AGAIN!)

Each day completes itself. The next day is new. (The missed notes, the missed opportunities in today's rehearsal are gone. The next rehearsal is another day...with new opportunities. A new dawn.) See you Friday!

Finishing touches

So, this is the beginning. Of a piece of pottery, I mean. My ceramics friends call it "throwing a pot". I have never done it, but I am a collector of beautiful pieces. If we were to walk through my house, I can identify the artist and where I found each gem. One piece came from North Carolina; one piece from an artist in Montgomery, several pieces from our own TROY University students. One my husband bought me for Mother's Day from a Birmingham artist. Each piece is unique. Each design is signed by the hands that molded it, conceived it. They are unique but they all represent my affinity for color, for graceful shapes, for provocative design elements. The messy process in the picture is so necessary to reaching the finished product in the next picture.

I wonder whether the artists enjoy the messy beginning part of the creation process or the finishing touches at the end? Maybe it is up to each individual artist.

I, for one, enjoy the finishing touch process. Like the one we embarked on in Friday's rehearsal. The joy of moving past learning notes and rhythms, of memorizing, of "throwing that piece", if you will. That is hard. It is messy. It is time consuming and it can be tedious. And sometimes disheartening.

But, the finishing touches! Molding, painting, sanding, stepping back and listening. Moving one part up ever so slightly; one dynamic level down; making one line fluid, each detail making a difference in the canvas of sound. SO much fun.

When the colors of the music become vivid. And the artist in all of us can smile.

Creative Ambition

Read numbers 8, 9. and 10 of Tharp's creative autobiography (pg. 55-56). I'll print it here for ease:

"What is your creative ambition? To continually improve, so I never think "my time may be over".

What are the obstacles to this ambition? The pettiness of human nature. Mine as well as others.

What are the vital steps to achieving this ambition? I often think of myself as water flowing into a rock. The water eventually finds its way out the other side, but in between it seeks out every hole and channel in the rock. It keeps trickling forward, gathering force until it bursts out on the other side as a raging torrent. That's my career experience. I don't have steps or ladders. I don't improve in steps. I'm the water slapping into the rocks. i gather force and then...explode."

I do think that I share the same creative ambition. I am never satisfied with my work product. I am always trying to improve...to push myself to excel (often to the detriment of my health and well-being, I think). In that way, I am also the single biggest obstacle to realizing this ambition. When I take my eyes off the music and its interpretation and put it on myself, my own ego, my expectations of my singers, circumstances, what others may think of me...I am easily derailed from the objective of excellence. The singular focus of "music first".

The water analogy is a poetic one. The creative experience is fluid, ever changing, dynamic, and powerful. Let's all try and enjoy the ride for the rest of the semester!

Practice. . .Part Deux

The Sistine Chapel...a fitting picture to place at another discussion of the role of PRACTICE in the life of a vocalist. Many of you are thinking "solitary" practice when you read this. But there is the kind of practice that goes on during your own session, the kind that happens (along with GREAT vocal instruction at TROY) in your lesson, and the kind that we do corporately as an ensemble.

Let's pick up with Ms. Tharp on page 167:

"Practice without purpose, however, is nothing more than an exercise. Too many people practice what they're already good at and neglect the skills that need more work. It's pleasant to repeat the things we do well, while it's frustrating to deal with repeated failure. . .the golfer Davis Love III was taught by his father to think of practice as a huge circle, like a clock. You work on a skill until you master it, and then you move on to the next one. When you've mastered that, you move on to the next, and the next, and the next, and eventually you'll come full circle to the task that you began with, which will now need remedial work because of all the time you've spent on other things."

Back to the Sistine Chapel. What does it represent to you? Painstaking detail? Patience? Hard work? Raw talent? Perseverance? Adoration for the artform? Dedication to the church? Sheer beauty? How about all of the above?

Those of you that will be choral directors one day will understand this complex, delicate circular balancing act. Still learning notes in one piece...others that are mostly done but lack finesse, others that are on the cusp of readiness. Balancing them all reminds me of preparing a large meal. Getting everything done at the same time and at the right time is tough.

So is this.

I'm convinced that Choral music making is not for wimps.

The Art of Practice

This next post is actually going to come in two parts. I'm going to quote Tharp and then put the transfers to music in parentheses.

"All dancers [singers] lead the same life; the lowliest corps members and the megastar still have to go to the same class at 10:00 [MWF11:00, 12, 2] to stay in shape... Soloists sepnd hours at their instruments before they rehearse with the orchestra [other choir members]. These habits don't disappear when you become recognized, honored, rich, famous, and otherwise validated [or upon graduation]. In fact, though everyone is free to practice as much as they want, it's the most acclaimed and skilled people who work the hardest to maintain those skills...the great ones never take fundamentals for granted. You may wonder which came first: the skill or the hard work. But that's a moot point. The Zen Master cleans his own studio. So should you." (The Creative Habit, page 166)

If you are like me, the action of practice is SO much harder than the act of performance. I remember as a kid hating the ritual of practice. My mom used to set an eggtimer to enforce the 30-minute rule. I'm not sure which rule I hated more...the 30 minute rule or the "you-will-play-every-piece-three-times-rule." (I think the latter, since you could speed everything presto and voila! You're done! - HA!)

I wish I would have practiced more. The only time I can remember being REALLY diligent about practice occurred during the 6 months leading up to my senior recital. You guys get off fairly easy. My recital was close to two hours long...memorized. For crying out loud, the Schubert piano sonata in A Major was longer than some of your recitals!

Anyway, I remember going down into the cellar of the ancient Andrew Carnegie library building (where some of our music department was housed) in sunny, warm weather and emerging 6 hours later to snow and ice! Such a lovely 2 mile trudge THAT was back to the dorm. A 40 degree drop and I was oblivious. Well, save for the occasional soccer game that we played in the hallway of the practice facility.

You get my point. Solitary practice is no fun but so necessary. The birds at the top of this post are so lucky. Their song comes naturally!

Next time, the purpose of practice.

Pieces of the Puzzle

I waited a while to post, because I needed to think about how I wanted to put this. Once again, one of my kid's photographs provided the needed inspiration. So did Twyla Tharp. I can relate so clearly with some of the things she reveals. This section is on page 123. I'll put her words in italics and my responses in regular print.



"When I prepare to work on a project, the field general in me comes out immediately. I marshal all my forces. I carefully assemble my team..."

Done. I have my repertoire chosen and my handpicked choral personnel in place.

"But people sometimes let you down."

Yep.

"For every person who inspires you and pushes you in the right direction,..."

And there are many of you...

"there is often another who is 'missing in action,' either because he's unreliable or simply closes you off rather than opens you up". . .

Twyla, were you in our rehearsal the other day???

See the pieces in the dome? None of them are bigger than any others. They are all shaped the same way...and they fit perfectly. However, what would happen to the dome and the carefully regulated plant life if one of the pieces didn't fit properly? Or if it was missing in action? The beauty within would eventually be exposed to the harsh outside elements and wouldn't thrive anymore. The dome would eventually cave in on itself. And the beautiful symmetry would be gone.

The metaphor is obvious. Here's hoping that our pieces fit better next time. There comes a point when, as Twyla says, "the peg may have started out round but it's square now; hammering harder isn't going to make it fit."

I hate when I have to throw away puzzles because of a few missing pieces.

Opportunity lost.

Beauty squandered.

TENACITY is a virtue

Some of you are chuckling as you see this picture of the mouse. For those that don't know, one of our chorale members has had one of these unwanted visitors in his house for several days. He has tried EVERYTHING to get rid of it. The mouse is tenacious. So far the score is mouse -3, human-0. How could something so small and insignificant get so tenacious?

For those of you that need a refresher in the definition of that word, it means holding firmly, tough, persistent, stubborn. The Thesaurus lists words like bulldoggish, steadfast, resolute, true.

So what does any of this mean to you? Well, in the most immediate scheme of things, your tenacity in "hanging in there" through tough, challenging rehearsals is beginning to pay off.

I heard it today, both in Chorale rehearsal and in frequency rehearsal, and I know YOU heard it, too. Your section leaders are tenacious...their work is paying off. Heavens knows that Laura and I are tenacious. I've been called worse than a bulldog for my stubborn insistence on excellence (same first letter, different word). But anything worth having is worth exercising the virtue of tenacity to achieve it.

In the GREATER scheme of things, some of you are exercising tenacity in getting your degree~against all odds. It might be lack of family understanding, lack of funds, skills that are tough to master, illnesses, life. But I repeat~anything worth HAVING is worth being tenacious about. That includes relationships (but that is another post).

So, as the cliche goes, hang in there. You are not alone and you have advocates ALL around, ALL the time. Your extended musical family (fill in the ensemble of your choice) is with you.

Always.

Rediscovering Joy

Memory lane. I was walking down this twisty path in my mind the other day. Some of the students that I taught years ago when I was a high school choral teacher "found" me on Facebook. One actually had to send me a picture of what they looked like when they were in my group, because they had (of course) changed. Some I recognized immediately.

So, before class I got my old scrapbook from that period of my life and began looking at those sweet faces. LOL (as you guys say) at the jokes;

bittersweet at the ones that are no longer with us. Then I started thinking about how it began here at TROY. And I found this picture of the early Chamber Choir. We've come a long way since those days. But do you see the joy on their faces? Hopefully, that is still in place in every rehearsal, in every encounter.

Sometimes we lose the joy in our music making and have to rediscover it. Like the small group that practiced (I'm told) for over an hour in the stairwell leading to the basement in Smith Hall.

Rediscovering the joy of making music together...unplanned...spontaneously...like an organism that is coming alive and growing and multiplying.

Hope you rediscover joy today!

Sun, steel, and shadow

Here is definition of "dissonance":



n.
1. A harsh, disagreeable combination of sounds; discord.
2. Lack of agreement, consistency, or harmony; conflict
3. Music A combination of tones contextually considered to suggest unrelieved tension and require resolution.

We are certainly singing a lot of music that contains wonderful dissonant passages. Stop and think of your favorite right now (Cancion de cuna? Adoramus? EVERYTHING that frequency is singing?) I'm not really sure why dissonance gets a "bad rap". It is the spice in the music. It is the "sturm und drang". I don't think I'd enjoy choral music nearly as much if everything was "pollyanna diatonic"! Somewhere along the way, however, we have lost the ability to enjoy dissonance.

To be able to hold our own part amidst the dissonance

To appreciate the tension in the dissonance.

To appreciate the release from that tension.

We water down our understanding of music to simple (and simply WRONG) comparisons such as "HAPPY = MAJOR; SAD = MINOR (class, hear me shriek in horror at this).

See the photo at the top of this post? My 12 year old loves to take photographs of the most unusual things. This is one of my favorites. But what is interesting is WHERE this picture was snapped. We were inside the butterfly atrium at Calloway Gardens. Now, one would expect a kid to take pictures of the butterflies, right? The OBVIOUS, pretty things. Not my kid. She took pictures of falling water and of the sun coming through the geometric design of the building. She took pictures of the shadows that the sun and the geometry made. Not the simple, pretty diatonic stuff but the product of sun and steel and shadow.

The dissonances.

And they are beautiful.

Remember that the next time you sing.

Perpetual Optimism

The older I get, the more optimistic I become.

It's true.

That is why the poem we sang (Afternoon on a Hill) speaks to me so much. Read the poem in its entirety:



AFTERNOON ON A HILL

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass
And the grass rise.

And when the lights begin to show
Up from the town
I will mark which must be mine
And then start down!

~Edna St. Vincent Millay

It embodies optimism. And contentment. And observation (the kind that you CANNOT have when you are busy texting while walking!). Reverance. Awe. And gratitude.

Since I'm big on "transfer" (in other words...everything relates to everything), I was thinking about this song that we rehearsed today and I immediately flipped through my itunes library to find a 1972 song by the late Dan Fogelberg. I happened to LOVE him "back in the day". So, I played TO THE MORNING and realized that it had the same kind of optimism that draws me to the Millay poem. The lyrics, although much more simplistic, were accompanied by a lovely, haunting melody (go sample it for yourself.) I wrote out the lyrics for you below:



TO THE MORNING

Watching the sun,
Watching it come~watching it come up over the rooftops.
Cloudy and warm, maybe a storm
You can never quite tell from the morning

And it’s going to be a day, there is really no way to say no to the morning.
Yes, it’s going to be a day, there is really nothin’ left to say but “come on, morning!”

Waiting for mail, maybe a tale from an old friend, or even a lover.
Some days there’s none, but we have fun thinking of all who might have written.

And it’s going to be a day, there is really no way to say no to the morning.
Yes, it’s going to be a day, there is really nothin’ left to say but “come on, morning!”

And maybe there are seasons, and maybe they change.
And maybe to love is not so strange.

The suns of the day, now they hurry away
Now they are gone until tomorrow
One day will break, and you will wake and you will rake your hands across your eyes and realize

That it’s going to be a day, there is really no way to say no to the morning
Yes, it’s going to be a day, there is really nothin’ left to say, but “come on, morning!”

And maybe there are seasons, and maybe they change.
And maybe to love is not so strange.

~Dan Fogelberg


So remember, amidst all your collegiate dramas and life angst...morning always comes. And we can approach each day with gratitude. Or not.

I choose "I will be the gladdest thing under the sun". Hope you do, too!

I love my job . . . most of the time

OK, today we take a break from CREATIVE HABIT and talk about what happened in rehearsal.

First of all, when I walked in 10 minutes early, here is what I saw: John was vacuuming, Sarah was writing the order of the rehearsal on the board, Rebecca was hole-punching materials for today, Adrian was getting ready to begin warmups. It was a little beehive of activity. Singers were arriving EARLY, getting their music ready. Adrian turned and said "Dr. O, can ya feel the love in here?"

Yes, I could.

And I walked back to get something in the office thinking: "God, I love my job.
I have the BEST bunch of students in the world".

We accomplished most of what I wanted to in rehearsal today, although I can tell that some of you are actually learning your notes and others need to.

I'm itching to move past the "note phase" to the "making music" phase, aren't you?
It isn't happening fast enough for me. Though faster in Chorale than in frequency, I'm afraid. (that's gotta be another post)

Hence the title of this blog. I love my job...most of the time. I get frustrated at pacing. Most conductors deal with this delicate balance. Trying to get an entire folder of music ready (but not too ready) at the right time.

Peaking too early is not good.

We become stagnant and our performance is lackluster.

Peaking too late is not good.

We experience lost opportunity and regret.

So, we rely on the TEAM to catch the vision of the conductor and then rely on the TEAM to slog it out in practice (both individual training and group practice) and then we rely on the TEAM to show up for the game and to give 110%.

Most of you do and I thank you for it. Making music with you is a privilege.

To those of you that need to step up your game, let me remind you... "Coach O" can't do it all. The first string members get tired if they have to do all the blocking and tackling. Everyone should be first string in chorale...

Go team!

Dive in~Step back.

Tharp goes on to say, “When I’ve learned all I can at the core of a piece, I pull back and become the Queen of Detachment. I move so far back that I become a surrogate for the audience. I see the work the way they will see it. New, fresh, objectively. In the theater, I frequently go to the back and watch the dancers rehearse. If I could watch from farther away, from outside the theater in the street, I would. That’s how much detachment I need from my work in order to understand it” (Creative Habit, Page. 41).

So, if you substitute “hear the work the way the audience will hear it”…that describes what every conductor has to do. Sometimes conductors get way too focused upon the nuance of the hands, the cutoffs, the need to micromanage the choir members with flicks and pulled lines, and facial pleading (HA!). Ever wonder why sometimes I just quit conducting, step to the back of the room, or the front, or even the hallway? Sometimes I cup my hands behind my ears (no, I’m not going deaf…yet!); sometimes I lean back against the piano, close my eyes, and attend to what you are doing. Granted, you are all kinda on your own during these times…but all the better. I’m trying to see that whole forest; to hear the overall effect; to listen for…what?

A goose bump moment?

Maybe.

An aural sample that you are applying what you’ve learned.

Probably.

Musical understanding?

Absolutely.

“Dive in. Step back. Dive in. Step back.” (page 41).

It is a delicate dance that we all do in every rehearsal.

Isn’t it grand?

INSANITY!

I chuckled when I read Tharp’s self-revelatory statement on page 40: “I don’t want them [the dancers] merely involved. I’m looking for insane commitment” HA! Singers, do you ever get that idea from me? Come on, admit it! I know that you think “Sheesh, Dr. O, you really expect us to sound like that?”

Yes.

If you read Tharp’s next statement, you’ll learn something about me. ”I’m no less strict with myself. I’m always taking temperature readings of my commitment…and pushing myself to be more committed than anyone else.”

If I ask it of you, I must model it. If I ask for you to be prepared, then I must be. If I ask you to work on your craft, I must do so. If I ask you to treat others like you would like to be treated, I must model that behavior.

Insane commitment.

Why not?

Dr. O

Aural painting

On page 27 of CREATIVE HABIT, Tharp says this: "When I listen to music, I don't multitask; I simply listen. Part of it is my job: I listen to music to see if I can dance to it. But another part is simple courtesy to the composer. I listen with the same intensity the composer exerted to string the notes together. I'd expect the same from anyone watching my work. I certainly wouldn't approve if someone read a book while my dancers were performing". That being said, listen (REALLY listen to this): http://www.waltonmusic.com/Sound12/AfternoonOnaHill/

In rehearsal yesterday, we talked about the aural "painting" that Eric Barnum uses throughout this lovely music~the little aural painting, for example, at the bottom of page 8 reminds me of a Dickensian village at dawn...one candle at a time in the cottage windows, until (at the top of page 9), the village is warm and bright and inviting.

This is the imagery I use as a conductor. It might remind you of something entirely different, based upon that powerful thing called memory and your experiences. Music~it is a language that you MUST attend to...whether in casual listening, in rehearsal, or in performance. Make that your goal this weekend. Dr. O

Mystical wonder

To better prepare us for a greater understanding and appreciation of the pieces in our repertoire, I plan on talking about certain ones in more detail from time to time. I’ve been gratified by your reactions to the John Tavener piece, Mother of God, Here I Stand. You’ve noted that this is a work within a work within a work~ in other words, it is one of the Five Anthems that is part of The Veil of the Temple. Most of the recordings that are available are a 2-disc, 2 hour condensation of what was a massive choral event. The Veil of the Temple premiered on June 27-28, 2003 at the Temple Church in London. You read that right; the premiere lasted 8 hours. Although based upon the traditional mass, the music is organized into eight cycles with mystical texts taken from Sufi, Protestant, and Greek Orthodox writers. This All Night Vigil must have been quite a listening and exhausting experience! I urge all vocal/choral majors (and anyone else interested) to visit this site to hear samples from the Veil (http://www.amazon.com/John-Tavener-Veil-Temple-Hybrid/dp/B0007DAYY2)
And this site (http://www.chesternovello.com/Default.aspx?TabId=2441&State_2934=2&discId_2934=976) to learn more about the work.

I encourage you to listen to the unique, mystical, minimal, and at times vocally CRAZY-demanding works of Tavener. You’ll be richer for it!
Thank you for yesterday’s rehearsal. You were focused and we got through the plan (which always makes me very happy!). Bring that same gameplan to rehearsal tomorrow! We will miss our band folks as they travel to BG and those that are battling the flu…but the rest of us can work on our craft with an intensity that will benefit all!
Dr. O

Good...better...best

Today’s rehearsal was good.
Adequate.
There were glimmers of possibilities. But remember~ You need to find your satisfaction in the music and not in your social interactions. If you do so, you will find that the rehearsal becomes (ultimately, with practice) THE place to have a blast!

Good.
Adequate.
But not great.
You are capable of much more.

It is my job to push you there. To pull you there. To allow you to step on my back to reach it. To get a “leg up”. But, I cannot get you all the way there. That is your job. All 32 of you.

Let me dispense with CREATIVE HABIT for one blog entry and chat with you about one of my learning experiences.

I was getting my Masters in Music and was taking an intensive (and I do mean INTENSIVE) one-on-one advanced conducting class with Dr. Martha Wurtz, one of the chamber ensemble directors at Wright State University. I was conducting one of Samuel Barber’s REINCARNATIONS titled “The Coolin’” (vocal/choral majors, if you don’t know this piece, look here http://uabchoirs.blogspot.com/2006/12/looking-ahead-coolin.html
for a listening example of it). The first part of the lyric is “Come with me, under my coat, and we will drink our fill of the milk of the white goat or wine if it be thy will. And we will talk until talk is a trouble too, out on the side of the hill(and so on).

Anyway, this piece looked easy…at least I thought so when I gave the preparatory beat. HA!!! Do you know that for the next hour, she never let me get past the first line? 20 minutes alone on the first measure? Was her goal to torture me? No, it was to think deeply about the wedding of music and lyrics. To reflect it (once understood…she told me I had OBVIOUSLY never REALLY been in love or else I wouldn’t conduct it like that!) in my conducting gestures. I sweated bullets that day. But I left understanding the piece. And feeling like I had “miles to go…”

Martha was a perfectionist. She demanded excellence. She demanded respect of the music. She demanded full attention. It was exhausting being her student. But, I count her one of the most important influences on my life. She was the one who introduced me to Jerry Bruner. She is among a small handful who nurtured my appreciation for good literature. She made me ask good questions. She made me think. The regalia I wear in every graduation ceremony was hers. She gave it to me when she knew that her moments on this earth were slipping away.

To this day, I cherish her demands.

I can only hope I live up to her example.

Dr. O

"Cause we're warm-in up"

On Page 16, Tharp talks about the beginning of a dance class and how it is beautiful to watch. How it always begins with the ritual of warm-up…sound familiar? But, how many of you realize just how important (physically, mentally, emotionally) the choral warm-up really is?

Well, as they say in the south, “I’m fixin’ to tell ‘ya”! I’ve done one of MY rituals (making the obligatory cup of herb tea after dinner) and so I thought I’d sip and reflect on the warm-up. Let me also be VERY honest here…it is my VERY least favorite rehearsal ritual. Like Tharp’s two hour workout in the gym. Obviously important (like scales are to the pianist), but tending toward the tedious…if we LET it.

Let me share some important things to remember (thanks to Sally K. Albrecht) about the warmup. “The choral warm-up will establish the mood for the rehearsal, as well as serve functionally to prepare the singers and their voices for singing”. She goes on to say that this is the time when singers realize something important is going to happen and to see that the conductor is “prepared, ready, and enthusiastic” for what is about to take place. Vocal/choral majors, take note of all of this. The tone for the rehearsal is set at the top (the conductor) and it is set at the outset (beginning) of the rehearsal. I can’t stress enough the importance of the conductor as leader (more on this later).

Here are Dr. Albrecht’s goals for the choral warm-up. First, they should “establish, cultivate, educate, and affirm the necessity for the singers to respond to the conductor’s gestures”. Second, they are to physically warm up the body and vocal instrument. And lastly, they reinforce ensemble techniques (like listening, responding as a unit). Good to remember next time you are tempted to “ZONE OUT” during warm-ups. Challenge yourself to “TUNE IN” next time. By the way, these helpful hints are taken from THE CHORAL WARM-UP COLLECTION (all vocal/choral majors will be required to purchase this book in Choral Techniques).

Now, a compliment and a suggestion. Overall, today’s rehearsal went well and we accomplished a lot. However, we didn’t accomplish everything on my list. This wasn’t because the list was too long; it was because we lost time with, as they say, idle chatter. Having to stop to remind you that I’m the one you should be listening to is like letting the air out of an inflated balloon. It isn’t any fun and it can ruin the party. Dr. O

No Magic Choral Wand

On page 9 in Chapter One of THE CREATIVE HABIT, Tharp reminds us that “it takes skill to bring something you’ve imagined into the world” and then goes on to say that “it is developed through exercise, through repetition, through a blend of learning and reflection that’s both painstaking and rewarding. And it takes time”. Are you feeling that now as you stare at your folder FULL of unlearned music? I know I do (particularly as the performance date draws closer). Don’t you wish you could just wave your magic little choral wand and POOF! “Mother of God, Here I Stand” is completed and so breathtakingly beautiful that you are convinced that even John Tavener would be moved to tears? Or the Hebrew of “Yedid Nefesh” is mastered. Or we have achieved a perfectly blended, exquisite choral sound.

But, there is no choral magic wand. And I’m kind of glad there isn’t. Because much of our growth, our maturity as musicians, our development as human beings with refined aesthetic senses happens within the confines of the hard work of a rehearsal. Much as I’m happy with a spotless house, I get a certain (warped?) satisfaction out of the sore muscles and tiredness that comes from having cleaned to get it to that point. I enjoy it more than if someone else (the magic cleaning fairy?) had come in and done if for me. I think that is what Tharp is trying to get at here. While a focused, energetic rehearsal is hard work, it is ultimately the most rewarding thing you do as a choral musician. Dr. O

The Preparatory Beat

So, were you listening during rehearsal on Friday? Really listening? If you were, you will not be surprised when I tell you that we will have a new seating arrangement on Monday. Much of what a conductor does is search for that magical arrangement…the one that allows all parts (SATB) to hear each other, become one with each other, reach that “sweet spot of harmonic bliss” (HA!). Where we are now sitting leaves us too isolated from one another and allows us to become complacent, only hearing those that are “like us”. So, expect change on Monday.

Back to Tharp and THE CREATIVE HABIT. On page 10, she says, “everything is raw material. Everything is relevant. Everything is usable. Everything feeds into my creativity. But without proper preparation, I cannot see it, retain it, and use it.” I’ve always believed that “everything relates to everything”. Everything I experience eventually contributes to my music making in some way. All experiences, all feelings, all successes, all failures. So, on your way to rehearsal on Monday, open up your senses a bit. Start your mental rehearsal prep as soon as you get out of bed in the morning. Listen. Watch. Think. Notice all this preparation is done without words. We will all be richer if we cultivate our inner lives a bit more…let’s all start Monday morning! See if this preparation makes rehearsal a more rewarding experience Dr. O

Welcome to the "O"-zone

In the first few pages of The Creative Habit, Tharp talks about that empty dance studio and what it symbolizes for her. She says that many artists find the “major pause” before the creative process to be terrifying…painful…humbling. And instead of risking failure, they never start. Now, none of MY students would ever be guilty of procrastination, would they?

I agree with her that the journey toward producing something whole and beautiful and satisfying is daunting. I faced it this summer as I stared at a binder FILLED with glorious choral music, just waiting to be studied. Where do you begin this process? How do you begin this process? Well, you certainly don’t “get ready to get ready to get ready” (sound familiar folks?). You just begin.

I always begin with lots of listening…it helps me to hear others’ interpretations of our pieces. It helps me, as I watch the score and listen, to mark the things I like and make notes about what I would do differently. Listening. It is key. That is why I put links at the bottom of this blog page…to encourage you to listen. You will never be the musician you long to be unless you do. It would be like trying to write the Great American Novel without ever having read one.

I listen for a lot, but mostly (at the beginning) for phrasing. For the musical setting of text. For the musical pictures that the composer is trying to describe with tone and shape and dynamics and motion.

Not passive listening, either…active listening. The kind I ask you to do in the confines of the rehearsal. But more on that later.

The Tonic

I think I should call this past summer “adventures in technology land”. Any of my students know that I rant and rave about their addictions to cell phones and Facebook…and this summer I decided “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!”. So I now text, use Facebook (only on occasion since I still think this eats up WAY too much time I don’t have) to touch base with alumni (only alums…sorry, kids. I see you at the campus every day…no need to Facebook with you at night!), check email from my phone and now…I am launching this “Notes from the Director” blog.

This actually has been something I’ve wanted to do for some time. I need to reflect after every rehearsal and would love to provide a model for my students to do the same. It is my philosophy that the performance is only one tiny piece of the musical puzzle. Most of the learning happens in the preparatory phase…i.e. the rehearsal and any score study that goes along with it. And if I reflect out loud here, I can devote more time to music in the rehearsal. Seems like a win-win for all concerned.

One of my conducting teachers in grad school impressed me with this statement: any good teacher or conductor worth his/her salt will spend reflection time (often, for her, at 2 a.m.)…thinking about the successes, the failures. Analyzing why something worked…why other things “crashed and burned”. It is the kind of analysis that pushes us all to be better at our craft (remember that term from last year?).

I will also be referring often to the book The Creative Habit: Learn it and Use if for Life by Twyla Tharp. This book is part of a Major Field Reading Initiative being piloted by our CCFA. Your colleagues in theater, art, journalism and languages are also reading this book with you.

This blog will be a work in progress. You’ll get to know more of what makes me “tick” as a musician and pedagogue (scary!) and hopefully, learn more about yourself as well.

Maybe even learn more about the art of making choral music. To me, there is nothing more beautiful than corporate music-making. More on that later…Dr. O