The Star Mangled Banner

I doubt that there is another song more abused then our national anthem. The off key singing of the sports fan who had one too many at the tailgate party, the celeb whose agent thought it would be a could career move to belt it at a ball game (hello Rosane Barr), the wanna be pop star who is nothing without his auto-tune - all have been guilty of high crimes and treason when it comes to singing "The Star Spangled Banner."

To begin with, I doubt very many consider the meaning of the words. In fact, I know many in the general population don't even know them. Every year I audition high school seniors who hope to be selected to sing the national anthem at graduation. They forget the words, swap phrases, add words, invent new lyrics, sometimes even invent words - and you can't blame it all on nerves. I can't tell you how many times I've heard "o'er the land, and of the free." I would bet that most don't realize that "o'er" is a contraction and not the word "or." Admittedly, the lyrics are not Shakespeare, but I have yet to hear them sung as if the singer had any sense of the meaning, drama and poetry they do contain.

Then there's the range. This presents an understandable challenge for non-singers, but I've heard botched public performances by people who should know better, usually because they didn't consider the pitch of the first note. Singers will usually start too high, and then, midway through, realize that the "rockets" are going to be glaringly out of their range. Their usual solution is to quickly modulate to an arbitrary key (pick a key, any key). Every once in a while some overly optimistic soul will just belt away, painfully bursting vocal cords and ear drums as they screech out those top notes.

Lastly, and perhaps the most egregious sinner of all, is the pop singer who considers the melody a mere framework on which to plaster as many runs, riffs, twists, turns, and other musical mischief as possible. The result sounds something like a musical seizure. Any relation to the original tune is purely coincidental. Sadly, audiences usually think this is a good thing and reward the singer with cheers and applause.

Yes, America is the "land of the free," and we are free to sing our anthem any way we want. Freedom, however, brings with it certain responsibilities. One of these ought to be singing "The Star Spangled Banner" in tune, with stylistic sensitivity, and with thoughtful consideration of the words.

Choral Festivals

The Taft Vocal Ensemble recently took part in a Music in the Parks festival at Disneyland. The experience was a very positive one in many ways. The students, understandably, were excited about winning a couple of first place trophies. I was interested in what the judges had to write and say about our performance.

I remember the first time I took the Vocal Ensemble to a festival. It was about 15 years ago, and I thought we were pretty good. When I got the judges written ratings, I was disappointed to have received just good and excellent ratings (superior being the top rating). Every negative comment I had ever heard about choral adjudicators popped into my head - they don't know what it's like in the real world, they are biased toward certain schools, they favor a particular conductor, they only like certain musical styles...

It was only when I listened to the adjudicators' tapes that I understood why we received our somewhat low rating. Under their spoken comments I could hear our group. Suddenly I heard how out of tune we really were, how bright our vowels were, and how off the balance was. Why hadn't I heard this before?

As most school music directors will tell you, one's ears become accustomed to the sound of one's groups. I think the brain must compensate and fool us into not hearing problems - probably some kind of self preservation instinct! Recordings help us to hear accurately, especially if we've had a break of several days from our group. A good adjudicator can also open our ears to reality with the added bonus of being able to suggest ways to improve.

At first it wasn't easy to accept the judges' criticisms. Then all my lectures to students about how criticism helps us grow came back to me. So, I swallowed my pride (are rather large swallow!) and began to strategize on how to improve. The going was slow, but eventually we started to move in the right direction.

Now, years later, we are a much better group. Still, as I listen to the tape and comments from our last festival, I realize that there are many areas where we can do better. I guess the only thing scarier then facing our shortcomings would be to not recognize them and not know how to improve.

On Writing a Musical Part 7

The performance of the musical, The Girls of Crabbottom, went well. The students enjoyed doing the show, audience response was positive, and in general, the show "worked." There were a few things that worked less well than others, however.

Timing is everything, and for me it is one of the more difficult things to gauge when I am in the act of writing. What I thought was important, insightful dialogue can occasionally just drag. What should have been a funny line can get lost. A song with what seemed to be clever lyrics can go on too long. 

To be fair to myself, it is hard to say how much the acoustics of Taft Hall played in the apparent slow pacing of one or two scenes. When the audience is probably only hearing 50% of the lines, it is only natural that a few spots can seem to drag. Still, there were only one or two places that I think can be tightened a little. Overall things moved fairly well.

The importance of context in presenting humor is another concept that was reinforced for me. There were a few lines that I did not think were very funny, but always got laughs, mostly because their placement served to release tension for the audience. Conversely, there were a couple of lines that I thought would get laughs and didn't, perhaps due to where they occurred.

Musically, the songs worked well. Crabbottom ain't Don Giovanni, but frankly, it shouldn't be. The songs were easy to follow, and a few even memorable. I didn't try to do too much with them and they didn't get overly complex. There's no retrograde inversion of the melody buried in the 2nd alto sax countermelody, but there are some very hummable tunes.

All in all, the plot held together well and kept the audience following the show. The characters were engaging and kept people interested in what happened to them. The songs were catchy when they needed to be, and expressive when that was the focus. The orchestration, if not totally authentic, was "close enough for jazz." If I write another musical, the lessons I learned from Crabbottom should be very helpful.

On Writing a Musical Part 6

I never played a lot of jazz and when I did it was back in my first few years of college. I am more of a choral person and my principle instrument is classical guitar, so I never developed a good ear for orchestration. Therefore, the prospect of orchestrating the musical for a 1920-30s jazz band was a little intimidating. Given that I had very little time to do it in also added to my anxiety.

I started off by listening to jazz bands from the era to try to get a feel for the sound. The late 20s to early 30s was an interesting transitional period. Small jazz and Dixieland combos had been around for a while, but it was before the polished big band sound of the 40s. I liked the raw and occasionally unrefined voicing of the instruments. I enjoyed hearing orchestrators experiment with the instruments.

My next step was to get a few scores to examine. I ordered Fletcher Henderson's "Variety Stomp" from a site on the Internet. Due to some email SNAFUs it took me a couple of weeks to get it, however, the owner of the site very kindly gave me a lot of advice. He described what instruments were in a typical band of the period. He told me about typical sax voicings, how instruments were combined, and a little on how the drums were played during that era. Any success I had in my orchestrating is due to his advice; any failures are due to my own ignorance and incompetence.

I started orchestrating with pieces that I knew were going to be less typical of the period, or were going to be primarily piano. As I got a feel for things, I moved to the heavier and more era specific songs. By the end, I felt that I was able to produce a plausible sound, at least to an audience that was not real familiar with the style of the period. Close enough for jazz, as they say.

Through the process, I learned that I am not a detail person by nature, and that orchestration requires a great attention to detail. Careful dynamic markings and phrasing can save a great deal of time in rehearsal. Clearly marking sections, watching note spellings (especially after the instrument has been transposed), and checking voice leading also can make things go easier.

The computer software (I used Sibelius) was indispensable. I am old enough to remember the days of hand writing everything and I do not miss the sore fingers and stiff neck! I learned little tricks along the way. One was to set up a template that can be reused for each song. Another little trick for parallel sax voicings was to just copy and paste the alto 1 part into the alto 2 part and then move the notes down a third to put them in the ballpark (and then of course adjust the pitches to fit the harmonies). The same could be done for the tenor part. I also learned that having a complete piano/vocal score before hand made things much easier. I only needed to copy that into the full orchestral score and then pull lines and harmonies out for much of my orchestration.

Once we got into rehearsals, the biggest problem I found was that the jazz band often overpowered the singers. This is in part due to the horrible acoustics of our performance venue (Taft Hall - a multipurpose room with hard walls and floor, low ceiling, and rectangular in shape). If I turned the singers' microphones up, the echo in the hall turned everything to mush. If I kept the microphones low, one couldn't hear them sing. The kids in the band did their best to play softly, but it was always a challenge.

My orchestrations in this regard were no busier or fuller than those of the period. I wonder how they did it back then with little or no amplification of the singers? I ended up cutting a few parts and thinning out a few sections to help mitigate the acoustical problem.

Another issue I had was the ability of our student musicians. They did a great job for high school kids, but there were certain places that were challenges. The first alto parts were often written very high back in the late 20s and are part of what give the music its distinctive sound. This can be tough even for our very talented first alto player. I had to compromise and avoid the extreme high notes whenever possible. In addition, trumpet parts were in a few places a little high for our trumpeter, and violin intonation is always a bit of a problem at the high school level.

Drum notation was also an issue. Usually the drummer is given a suggested outline of what to play and is then left to interpret and improvise the rest. This works well with a drummer who is versed in the style of the times, but is not appropriate for a high school student. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about drumming, especially from that era, to be of much help. Our drummer is an excellent percussionist and did an adequate job for the show, but I'm sure there were a lot of anachronisms in his playing.

Finally, I was reminded on how having a strong pianist is essential for a musical - especially at the high school level. We hired in a very talented lady who did a wonderful job. She covered parts when needed, reinforced vocal lines when necessary, and in short, held things together. She, however, could not make all the early rehearsals, and I used student pianists for those. I was surprised at what a good job they did. With the exception of one or two sections, they could have played the whole show and saved me some money.

In the end, the band sounded very good and the orchestration was passable if not always authentic. The acoustics were still bad and probably half the lyrics were lost. Nevertheless, it was a good learning experience for me and hopefully a bit of fun for the singers and instrumentalists.

On Writing a Musical Part 5

A few weeks ago I came across a blog entitled "Can Ordinary People Burst into Song." The blog discussed, among other things, the problem of moving from dialogue to song in a musical. In real life, people don't just burst into song, so when this occurs in a musical, it can disrupt the audience's belief in the reality of the play.

Though this can be problematic, when handled carefully it is not as big a problem as it seems. To begin with, when one goes to see a musical, one expects to hear the actors burst into song. The mere expectation of song makes the actual occurrence less jarring. Also, there are certain conventions and techniques for how a composer can work into a song: a soft instrumental background introduction, a recitative-like vocal introduction, an opening with sprechstimme (words spoken in rhythm and on pitch or approximate pitch).

Another technique involves the spoken setup before the music begins. There are textual clues an author can put in the script that let an audience anticipate that a song is about to begin. These clues can be enhanced with an actor's speaking style, blocking, and staging.  Again, the expectation of song eases the transition for the audience.

For me, a bigger problem than the transition into song is the question, why put a song here in the first place? What is it in the text that can justify a disruption of the plot so that a song can take place? As an actress might say, "What's my motivation?"

Songs can perform certain dramatic functions that make them more beneficial than just giving the audience a tune they can remember. Here are a few thoughts on how that can work with examples from West Side Story.

Songs can intensify an emotional moment such as in a love song. The emotions of a character compels him or her into song ("Maria," "There's a Place for Us"). Songs can act as a Greek chorus, giving voice to what an audience is feeling, what a group of characters is feeling, or commenting on the drama ("Cool"). Songs can help with pacing. A nice lively song can perk up an audience after an intense but slower paced scene ("America"). They can function like an aside to the audience, letting them know the inner thoughts or feelings of a character ("Something's Coming"). Songs can provide comic relief in a way that wouldn't be as effective as spoken text (the circus-like music in "Gee, Officer Krupke").

There are also cases where songs serve the drama in ways one would never expect. One wouldn't normally think that a song would be a good way to win an argument, yet in "A Boy Like That," Maria's convincing Anita to help her is more believable to the audience because it is sung.

I am certainly not an expert on musicals, and I am sure that others can add much more to what I've written. I would be interested in hearing other thoughts and opinions on the subject.

On Writing a Musical Part 4

In my high school days I wrote rock songs for my band. In college I wrote contemporary art songs for my recitals. The songs in a musical lie somewhere in between cyclical rock chord progressions and complex harmonic and melodic art music. Therein lies the fun and the challenge.

In any kind of pop music the key is to write a song that is going to be easily grasped by the audience and have instant (or near instant) appeal. If you have to hear it five times in order to "get it" it is already too late. The hook as a pop song writing technique is still viable because it addresses this issue. In popular music it is not crucial to craft melody and harmony that subtly comment on or reinforce individual words or phrases of the lyrics.

In classical music, however, the opposite is true. While there are plenty of classical arias or art songs that have a certain instant appeal, the focus in many pieces of art music is on the "illumination of the text." The composers job is to craft a musical setting that enlightens the listener to the meaning and emotions found in the lyrics. The definition, sound, stressed syllable, and context of very word is considered while creating the melody, harmony, dynamics, texture, and accompaniment. Subtlety and attention to detail are critical.

The songs in a musical lie somewheres in between these two extremes. It is always good to give the audience a few tunes that they can go out singing (this is even true in many operas). But there are other places in a musical where the one can sacrifice a catchy melody in favor of melody that pays close attention to the details of the text.

For me, part of the trick to writing a musical is to know when to do which. Generally, opening numbers and finales should grab the audience's attention and be somewhat memorable. Dramatic high points may be places where the emotional content of the music is more critical than a hook based tune. And in at least a couple of places interspersed in the musical there should be some tunes that will stick in the audience's mind long after the final curtain. One may also want to consider leitmotifs, returning themes, and other musical devices that can make a musical work.

Of course, all musical books are different and require adjustments to the above. Furthermore, a song with a catchy melody can capture subtle elements in the lyrics and an "artistic" melody can have a nice hook as well. It is up to the musicality and artistic sensitivities of the composer as to how to navigate between these elements.

On Writing a Musical Part 3

As I mentioned in my last post, the plot to my musical was simple, but despite that (or perhaps because of that) characters and themes began to suggest themselves to me.


The main characters are as follows:

• Crabbottom - thirty something; misquotes Shakespeare; a somewhat lovable rum runner with gangster ties; his father, who also was a gangster, founded the home for wayward girls.
• Sister Salvation - thirty something; runs the home; has a belief that there is good in everyone.
• Willie - late teens; newspaper boy; a dreamer, likes Molly.
• Molly - late teens; one of the wayward girls; pragmatic; a 1930s style feminist.

The characters each had a slightly different look on life which fascinated me. Would the dreamer learn to deal with reality? Would a pragmatic girl dare to take a leap of faith? Would the the gangster learn to do good? Does God have a plan for all of us, or is the world an undetermined arena where we must find meaning and good?


The challenge, and the fun of it all, was to unobtrusively layer these ideas on to the scaffold of the simple plot. Cliches, throw away lines, misquoted Shakespeare, these might all be embedded with a deeper level of meaning without getting in the way of the entertainment.


Then, when I was nearly done with the book, I came across a quote from Anatole France, "To accomplish great things, we must not only act but also dream, not only plan but also believe." This fit the play perfectly and the quote would be a motto for the home for wayward girls.


I thanked my luck (or was it preordained fate?), but was also glad that I didn't come across the quote too early in the writing. I would have been tempted to make each of the characters "fit" - the dreamer, the planner, the doer, the believer. If I had done so, I think the characters would have been iconic and one dimensional. So, the characters don't match up perfectly (real people never do), but suggest and at times are in conflict with these themes.


I don't know how well I succeeded in any of this. For me, however, it was the fun and creative part of writing that kept me going.

On Writing a Musical Part 2

The first thing I had to consider, even before I began the actual writing, was what my requirements and restrictions were going to be. I knew we would have many girls trying out, and just a hand full of guys, so I needed to have lots of girl parts and just a few guy roles. The plot would have to be engaging enough for high school students, not too risque for parents, not too controversial for administrators, and hopefully have some educational value. Above all, it had to be entertaining.

I started with the gender issue: a girls camp - no, too much like a tacky teen flick (and like my last musical!), a women's prison - no, sounded like a bad X rated film, a nunnery - no, church and state problems not to mention that the students would never buy it.

The setting I came up with doesn't sound any better - a home for wayward girls set in New York at the time of the great depression. But, given the current state of the economy, I thought people could relate to the depression. With my wife recently laid off and looming salary cuts, I certainly could relate to it! The "wayward girls" aspect was mildly suggestive, but could be sufficiently sanitized as to not offend.

In addition, I've always liked the music of the early jazz age, doing a period piece would allow for some educational tie-ins, and the acting style from that time allows for a certain playfulness.

As to the plot, I learned from my other musical that it needed to be simple, at least in its initial conception. Musicals are not novels and need to be direct. Once the writing begins, twists, developments, and motivational considerations can easily lead the clearest plot into a convoluted and complex quagmire. The point is to start simple and try not to be led too far astray. I also wanted something in keeping with the spirit of the plots of the era - again, fairly simple.

So, the story has a couple of love interests that must overcome problems before their ultimate success. The home for wayward girls has to overcome a couple of obstacles in order to survive. Throw in a politician who must be outsmarted and you get the picture. OK, originality takes a back seat to pragmatic considerations, but it seems to work.

It also got me thinking about how much I could layer on to this simple scaffold. A theme began to develop. Characters began to take on flesh. Possibilities began to suggest themselves.

On Writing a Musical Part 1

During the 2009 Winter Break it became increasingly clear that my school, Taft High School, had precious few dollars to spend on getting the rights to do this year's musical. It was also obvious that it would be hard to find a published musical that would allow us to cast all the many girls (and the few guys) who wanted to be in it.

The solution seemed obvious, write an original musical. No problem! I can do that. Two months to do it in, plenty of time. Ah, hubris has its price.

With a little gentle nudging from our wonderful drama teacher, Julianna Olinka, I began writing on January 2nd during the last week of winter vacation. Seven weeks later it was done - printed script, piano and vocal lead sheets, and guide audio tracks for the singers. I was lucky to have a Julianna's friend, Laura Manning, cowrite the lyrics. In addition to saving me time, she did a wonderful job.

I am now almost done with the orchestration. After that, there is the overture and some incidental music to write, but most of that will be derived from already composed material so it should not take much time. It can't take much time because we open April 29th!

The next several posts will be somewhat random thoughts on the process - what I learned, and what I should do or not do next time (if there is to be a next time).

The Passing of Jimmy Wyble

I was saddened last week to read that the great guitarist Jimmy Wyble passed away (obit in the LA Times). I knew Jimmy from the 1970s when I worked at Larry Larsen's Music Studio in Glendale. Jimmy rented teaching space there and we would often talk and play guitars between lessons.

Jimmy was a wonderfully creative and talented musician. His style was a truly unique blend of country-western, jazz, and classical music. It was always a joy to hear him play. What was even more impressive about Jimmy, however, was the person that he was. I have never known a kinder or more supportive man.

I remember one day Jimmy and I were talking when a boy of about twelve walked into the studio. After a few minutes the boy pulled out a guitar and played a rather poor rendition of "Stairway to Heaven." Back in those days just about anyone who had ever touched a guitar knew the opening to that rock classic. Few could play it well, and even today it is probably the most butchered song in the history of the guitar.

But Jimmy listened attentively. When the boy was done, Jimmy complimented him. "That was beautiful. How exciting that you are learning guitar. I can really hear that you love the music. You keep practicing and you are going to be a wonderful guitarist." – or something along those lines.

Now from anyone else, I would have said that it was just a bunch of polite BS, but from Jimmy it was 100% sincere. He had the ability to see past the obvious and understand the essence of the moment. It was beautiful and exciting for him to see someone at the early stages of learning a musical instrument. Jimmy could hear the love that someone had for music even through the wrong notes, poor phrasing, and stuttered rhythms. He could see ten years down the road when, with practice, that beginning guitarist would be a good musician.

It was no surprise that Jimmy was a great teacher. Even though I never took formal lessons from him, I learned a great deal about music and teaching from Jimmy. He lives on not only in his music but also in all those whom he inspired with his love and kindness.

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Jimmy Wyble's website is still up. It is worth a visit if only to hear Jimmy play the number on the homepage.

Too Good To Be True

Last night I attend the inaugural concert of the Glendale Philharmonic Orchestra. The musicians, about 20 string players, gave a wonderful performance, especially considering that this was there first concert. The program had a bit of a rough beginning with a stylistically odd arrangement of Bach's Prelude from the Violin Partita No. 3. After that it continued well with Karl Jenkins' Concerto Grosso "Palladio," Andrey Rubtsov's Andande Dolente & Scherzo for Two Cellos (world premiere), Arno Babajanian's Aria, and Edward Mirzoyan's Symphony.

The group was highly disciplined and very responsive to their conductor, Mikael Avetisyan. And yet . . .

Leaving the concert I was reminded of something I heard the former conductor of the Los Angeles Master Chorale, Paul Salamunovich, say (and he may have been quoting someone else), "The audience should never see the dynamics on the page." I saw them last night.

Now, admittedly this is an unfair criticism. It was their first concert, it could have been my mood, I would be hard pressed to tell them specifically what to fix, and I didn't notice it all the time. But there were times when the dynamic changes seemed stiff and mechanical, almost geometric in their plot. Technically they were done well, yet they didn't have the feeling of growing organically out of the music. Things were a little too tightly controlled.

This contrasted with the times when the music did have a more natural quality. The few short solos by the concert mistress, Limor Toren, were a good example of this. There was subtlety in her phrasing. One got the sense that she felt and enjoyed the music. It seemed to emanate not from the notes on the page, but from within her.

As I implied, this is all very subjective. Still, it brings up the issue of how a conductor can find the balance between control and spontaneity, between precision and flexibility. What does one say, "Be more spontaneous, now!?"

Clearly these are excellent musicians under a very talented conductor. Perhaps it is just a question of time and trust before they relax into the music, have fun with it, and allow it to flow more naturally. I look forward to hearing them at their next concert.

Singing In Tune Part 4

The beginning and end of good intonation is careful listening. Getting student choral singers to always listen for pitch is not easy. They are thinking about the words, the notes, the rhythms, the person next to them, the good looking kid in the first row, what they are for breakfast, what they are going to do over the weekend ... Distractions are everywhere!

One exercise to get singers listening is to have everyone in the choir sing a random note and then, within five seconds, move to a common pitch. The common pitch should not be determined ahead of time and will be arrived at by each singer listening to other singers and adjusting. I am usually surprised at how easily singers can do this. If it were only that easy to reach consensus in society and politics!

Choral singers should work on listening and tuning chords. They should know what a root, third, and fifth are, and how they "feel" when one sings them in a chord. One technique is to play a chord on the piano and then have the choir sing the root, and later, the third or fifth of the chord. You can even assign different chord degrees to different sections (i.e. basses and sopranos sing the root, tenors the fifth, and altos the third). To expand on this, have them sing the seventh even though it is not in the triad you played.

Problematic chords within a work especially need to be tuned. Once the chord is identified, isolate it and try different combination of parts (for example, just altos, tenors and basses). Start with the more consonant intervals, and then add on the more dissonant pitches. Another trick is to temporarily rewrite the chord to make the chord more consonant by moving a part or two a half step up or down. Next slide the changed parts to their original, more dissonant pitches. All through this singers should be reminded to listen to how their part fits within the overall chord.

Choral singers need to develop the ability to sing "one on a part" with good intonation. In this way they learn to listen and tune to other parts - and not just to their own section. They become aurally aware of unisons, octaves, and fifths between parts and use those intervals to check intonation.

Digital recording is now quick and easy, and is a great way to help choirs become aware of their intonation, as well as a host of other issues. I have microphones semipermanently set up in my classroom and hooked up to my computer. Within a few seconds I can record a selection and play it back for the singers to hear. When they are able to listen to themselves in this way they quickly identify their own intonation problems and are much more receptive to suggestions on how to fix them.

We as teachers also have to remind ourselves to listen critically for intonation. Over the course of a semester it is incredibly easy for our brains to adjust to a certain level of out of tune singing. Making recordings of our choirs can help keep our ears honest. For some reason, things that sounded well in tune while being sung live, can sound horribly out of tune when heard the next day on a recording.

Over performed works, new acoustical settings, and different placement of singers can also create listening issues that can lead to bad intonation. Try having the choir practice in different venues such as the cafeteria, outside, or in the hall. Try arranging them differently, mix the parts together (an alto next to a tenor next to a bass...), or have them form two lines facing each other and sing to their partner. If a work is getting a little stale, try moving it up a half step, taking a different tempo, or arbitrarily change tempos (molto motlo rubato). Another trick is to have them imagine the music in their heads while you conduct it. Then, say at the last chord of a phrase, actually sing the chord. Pitch "visualization" (auralization?) is an important skill for good intonation.

Poor intonation can destroy all other musical successes. For the choral director it is important to understand why singers are singing out of tune. Next, isolate the issue (not simply the passage, but the root cause of the intonation problem). Finally, create exercises that address the problem and then reintegrate the passage into the piece.

Singing In Tune, Part 3

If intonation troubles persist despite good vocal technique, the difficulty may rest in the music itself. A close examination of the score can reveal potential sources of pitch problems. A good conductor can identify these ahead of time and address these tricky spots in warm up exercises or when the passages are first encountered. Attacking the problem before singers get used to singing a section out of tune can save a great deal of time in the long run.

Descending half steps are one of the most frequent causes for singing flat, especially with beginning singers. For example, on the downward scale, "do, ti, la, sol," the "ti" is usually a little flat.

The first step to addressing this issue is to explain what half steps are and to demonstrate them on the piano. It helps if students can both see and hear the half steps. Next have the students sing "do, ti" holding "ti." Play the note on the piano so that they can hear that they are not singing it in tune. Then have them sing, "do, ti, do." They will most likely sing the "ti" in tune due to the anticipation of returning to "do." Immediately after this have them sing "do, ti" holding the "ti." The "ti" usually remains in tune.

Of course, this only gets them to realize the nature of the descending half step problem; it does not actually fix it. Try adding the following exercises to your warm ups. Have the choir sing (quarter notes) "do, ti, do" followed by a descending major scale (eighth notes). Priming the pump with the "do, ti, do" can get them to hear the "ti" in tune and help them sing it correctly on the downward scale. Another good exercise is to sing ascending and descending chromatic scales. If you can harmonize these on the piano it helps them to hear the leading tone nature of the pitches which improves their intonation. Once they sound pretty good with the accompaniment, have them sing it a cappella.

Other intervals can be problematic as well. Perhaps because of bluesy roots of pop music, major thirds (both melodic and harmonic) are sometimes sung a little flat. A simple exercise to help with all intervals is to sing "1-2, 1-3, 1-4, 1-5, 1-6, 1-7, 1-8" on the corresponding intervals. After a few days of doing this, have them just sing a single interval out of sequence (i.e. "1-3").

Tritones are the traditional nemesis of singers. Playing the piano along with that interval in a way that can get singers to hear the leading tone nature of the augmented fourth can help them sing that interval in tune (I on "do", II7 on the tritone, and resolve it to V on "sol"). Once they get the hang of it, take away the piano.

Basses so often sing a descending fourth (do to sol) that when novice basses get a descending fifth, they often flub it. A little "La Bamba" harmony (I - IV - V - IV) helps them get the feel for that interval.

Pitch problems can also occur when there is a sudden large skip to a note (often lower) followed by a return to original pitch area. The note that is skipped to can often be out of tune. I call these notes "throw away notes" and even good singers can miss them. Singers need to be made aware that they are not nailing the note perfectly. Practicing the skip in isolation and then integrating it back into the music usually solves the problem.

When beginning singers first encounter dissonant harmonies they can be thrown for a loop. I usually make a game of dissonance during warm ups. I'll start by assigning pitches to each section to create some "nice" dissonances - minor 7th chords, chords built on fourths, and triads with an added ninth are usually easy for them to handle. I'll gradually up the anti by moving to chords built on whole tone scales, major 7th chords in closed voicing, and dominant flatted ninth chords. After they've gotten used to those harmonies, I'll move to half step clusters. For a real challenge, I'll assign each individual singer a different note a half step away from the pitch their neighbor is singing.

Once singers have developed an ear for dissonance they can deal with it in a piece. When you come across a challenging chord in a work, pull it out of the piece and work with it. Try changing a few notes to make it consonant, then alternate between the consonant version and the dissonant one. Again, make a game of it. Are there a group of singers that can nail it one on a part? Split the choir in half or in quarters and have a contest to see which group can sing it best.

Another musical issue that can cause intonation problems are passages that are repeated but with a note or two changed by a half step. This might occur where there is a shift from minor to major, in a variation, or where a note suddenly becomes the leading tone in a modulation. I find that alternately singing the contrasting sections back and forth will help students become aware of the differences.

In the end, good intonation requires good listening. In the next section I'll explore some techniques to help singers hone their listening skills.

Singing In Tune Part 2

In part 1 of of this series I discussed how to help students determine if they are singing in tune or out of tune. Once students know what good intonation sounds like, and are actually listening for it, the approach to fixing intonation problems shifts to vocal technique.

Start with the basics. Is the tone supported by a good breath? One trick here is to have the students buzz their lips. If the air pressure is strong enough for the lips to buzz, then it should be good enough to support an in tune pitch. Once they get the buzz down, have them open to an "ah" ("bbbb-ah"). Additionally, check if the breathing supported by good posture.

Are students singing in their correct voice for a particular musical passage? A common problem is for singers to take their chest voice too high. This is critical for altos who may find it too easy to use their low voice for mid-register notes, resulting in slightly flat pitches. It can also be a problem for tenors who haven't fully learned how to use their high voice. If forced to choose, I always prefer the tenors to use a soft yet in tune falsetto rather then a loud out of tune chest voice.

One way to attack this "correct voice" issue is to transpose the problem passage to a significantly higher pitch, thus forcing the singers to sing in a head voice. Then, sequentially move the passage down by half steps until you arrive at the original pitch, all the while reminding the singers not to slip into a chest voice. Another technique, that is especially helpful when singers must leap from a low note into the problematic pitch, is to sing the whole passage in head voice. It's a bit of a cheat, but as a quick fix it can eliminate issues students have with changing into head voice.

Helping beginning singers discover their head voice requires a bit of luck, magic, and prayer. I've never hit on a sure fire fix, but in another posting I will share a few of the techniques that have given me a little success.

At times the "correct voice" problem results from students trying too hard to use their chest voice. Young basses will sometimes strive to sound manly by doing this on low notes. The result is usually an overly covered, out of tune pitch. Good basses learn to sing low notes with the feeling of a head voice in a way that not only helps the pitch, but also gives a nice resonance to the sound.

Occasionally some consonants will disrupt the vocal mechanism and result in flatness. This is especially true for beginning singers (often sopranos) when singing high pitches. To discover if consonants are causing the problem, have the students sing on an "ah." If this fixes the intonation, you've identified the difficulty. Create an exercise in a comfortable register that uses the problematic consonant/vowel combination ("b–eh_," "th_–ah_”). Sustainable consonants like "m" and "l" can be held longer to help students adjust. Gradually move the exercise into the range where the pitch issue is.

Additional technique problems that can result in poor pitch are tightening the throat muscles, especially when students raise their heads slightly in an attempt to sing higher notes, tension in the jaw, and tongue position.

There are other, not strictly technical factors, which can cause intonation problems as well. When students are nervous or excited about a performance their adrenaline can make them go sharp. Lack of sleep can lead to singing flat. Distractions or a general lack of focus can also lead to out of tune singing.

In part 3 I will address musical issues that can lead to poor intonation. I will also take a look at matters related to listening.

Singing In Tune, Part 1

Poor intonation is the bane of all music teachers, and especially choral music teachers. It is something so basic that we may have a hard time understanding why singers sing out of tune, and we may be at a loss as to how to fix it. Here are a few thoughts on the subject.

The initial problem is to ascertain whether the individual student actually knows the difference between singing in tune and singing out of tune. This can be an issue during the first few weeks of a beginning voice or choir class.

One approach to determine this is pitch matching. While working with a student, have him sing a pitch and then you sing a note a little lower or higher. Next, gradually slide to the note the student is singing. Tell the student to raise their hand when both notes are exactly the same. Draw their attention to the "little bumps" that sound when the notes are nearly the same, and how the sound gets smooth when they perfectly match.

This does three things. It lets you know if the student can tell when he is singing in tune, it teaches the student what to listen for in order to sing in tune, and it gets the student to think about always listening for correct intonation. Once the student gets the idea, reverse the process. Sing a note and get the student to slide into the pitch. Help the student to determine if they need to slide up or down with hand signals. As the student progresses, work toward doing away with the glissando so that they hit the pitch dead on. With a little coaching even tough cases can improve.

One can also demonstrate this to the whole class. Pick a student who is comfortable singing publicly, has a fairly loud voice, and has relatively good tone. Have them sing a note and then you sing and slide into their pitch. Have the rest of the class raise their hands when the two notes are in tune.

Once the class has developed reasonably good intonation, it's important to keep them on their toes. Try taking one of your typical warm up exercises and, instead of progressing chromatically, jump to random pitches for each iteration. For example, "mah, meh, me, moh, moo" sung on C followed by "mah, meh, me, moh, moo" sung on Eb instead of C#. It is too easy for singers to slip into "autopilot" mode when doing warm ups. This use of random pitches forces the singers to listen, helps them to develop their pitch matching ability, and keeps them thinking about singing in tune.

In part 2 I will discuss some of the vocal and musical issues that can lead to poor intonation.

I recently watched an outstanding internet concert by Les Arts Florissants (Arte Live Web). They performed of an assortment of Monteverdi vocal works with exciting dynamic contrast, a great sense of phrasing, and a beautifully expressive interpretation of the text.

A few days later, I decided to show part of the performance to my Vocal Ensemble class. This is the advanced choral group at Taft High School. The students are familiar with music from Monteverdi's time as we have sung several Renaissance and Baroque works. Because of their training and talent, it was not a surprise to me that they loved the concert.

Encouraged by their reaction, I decided to show it to my beginning choir as well. This group is a mixed bag of students, but most have had little musical or vocal training and have not had much exposure to classical music. The one plus was that we have been working on a little three-part Marenzio madrigal in class.

Their strong positive reaction to the performance by Les Arts Florissants was a surprise. They were impressed with the sound of the voices, the music itself, and the visual expressiveness of the singers.

I think the fact that they could see the emotions of the singers as well as hear them was an important factor in their enjoyment of the music. But I also feel that the high quality of the performance contributed greatly to their appreciation.

Strong musicality has a way of transcending age, training, and musical preferences. It speaks directly to us in an almost primal way. Even those with little previous classical music exposure can relate to good music done well.

This experience with my choir reaffirmed my belief that all students can enjoy good music. Once the stereotypes of classical music are dispelled, students are surprisingly open to the music. As arts educators, it is our job to tear down the popular media bias against classical music, give students some basic listening skills, and present them with high quality, engaging performances. In doing so we give our students a lifelong enjoyment of fine music and we create an audience that will continue to support the music we love.

Who's that "Batch" guy?

One of the big surprises for me when I first started teaching was how much students didn't know about music, especially classical music. It was easy to forget how much I had learned since I began studying music, or what I had picked up from being raised in a white, middle class family (though they weren't particularly musical).

It's "Bach." It kind of rhymes with "rock" (abandoning any hope of a German pronunciation). No, he didn't write the "Toccata and Fugue in Dm" to be scary music for a horror film.

I try not to be condescending.

The Beethoven we're talking about is Beethoven the composer, not the dog in the movie.

I try not to roll my eyes or grunt in exasperation.

It's Wagner pronounced with a "v," and "show pan" not "chop in." That's a treble clef, not a trouble clef (at least for most people).

Give them credit; they are curious. Classical music is a mysterious world for many of them and they are intrigued by it.

No, you don't have to be fat to sing opera.

They like Carmen. What's not to like in an opera with great music and a plot filled with sex and violence.

No, Mozart didn't write Eine Kleine Natchmusik to make a ringtone, and no he didn't really laugh like that.

They love Amadeus; I just repeat a few thousand times that Salieri did not really kill Mozart. They like the "Queen of the Night" aria, and a couple of brave souls will valiantly attempt those high notes.

No, I don't want to hear your x-rated version of "Every Good Boy Does Fine." No, the term "F hole" refers to the hole on the violin's body. No, that's not what mf stands for, at least in music.

I refrain from telling them the joke about why Bach had so many kids (no stop on his organ – few would get that one), or the difference between an orchestra and a bull (the bull has the horns in the front and the ass in the back).

Don't get me wrong. Many (maybe even most) students have had some musical education, either formally or informally through their family. A few are even incredibly talented and knowledgeable. I remember walking through the halls of a middle school in East LA and seeing a kid sitting on the floor studying the score to The Magic Flute. My first year at Taft High I had a student pianist who was not only a great sight reader, but could easily transpose while he was sight reading. Still, there are times I shake my head.

No, that's not Beethoven playing the piano on the recording of Moonlight Sonata.

It's not their fault, they just haven't been taught. They like the first movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, as well as the last movement of the Ninth (although that can get a little long – anything over three minutes is long). And then there's "Für Elise."

Yes, I would love to hear you play "Für Elise."

For the ten thousandth time I listen to a student attempt the first part of Beethoven's little study – MOLTO rubato, slowing down at the hard parts, wrong notes scattered here and there, "oops, let me start over," . . .

But I am sure that when I first started playing classical guitar my performances were just as flawed. No doubt, my guitar teacher, grimacing on the inside, gave me an encouraging word or two.

So now it is my chance to support students as they begin to explore the world of classical music. Now, and in years to come, this music will offer them comfort, beauty, and joy. I am fortunate to be given this opportunity.

That sounded very good. You've really got a nice feel for the piano. Hey, have you heard this? It's a prelude by Bach. Yeah, it looks like "batch," but it's pronounced "Bach." It kind of rhymes with "rock."

Page Turners: The Unheralded Heros of Music

I've been watching a lot of live music performances over the web recently and for some reason have begun to obsess on page turners.

I worry. Are they going to make the turn in time? Will they accidentally turn more than one page? Will the page stay open or will it start to turn back? Will they distract the pianist from the music? Was that a nod to turn by the pianist or was he just moving to the music?

There is a lot to page turning that most people don't consider. It requires concentration, skill, and grace. People don't always appreciate that.

Yet, at the end of the performance, what happens? The pianist takes her bows, accepts flowers, tries to look pleased and humble at the same time. But what of the page turner? Discreetly they have vanished from the stage. I would say that they are quickly forgotten, but that would imply that the audience was even aware of their presence to begin with. They receive acknowledgement from neither the pianist nor the audience. In the flush of triumph, does the pianist even remember?

I suppose the job of the page turner can be a metaphor for our lives. Most of us quietly live out our existence, dutifully doing our job and fulfilling the expectations of friends and family. Then one day we are not there.

Perhaps we have retired, moved, or taken another job. A few months after leaving, someone asks, "I wonder how so-and-so is doing?" and a year later, "Whatever happened to, what was his name again?" and then, . . . nothing.

Perhaps we have died. Outside of a few close friends and family, our lack of existence may not be noticed. We must be content with a mention in someone's genealogy.

Charles de Gaulle once said, "The graveyards are full of indispensable people." The indispensable superstar pianist will one day fade into a one paragraph entry in the Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, in effect suffering the same fate as the forgotten page turner.

In the end, it is the same for all of us – we do our job then leave, hoping that along the way we have made a difference in someone's life. A few are lucky enough to earn a little applause and take a bow or two.

But we all deserve at least a little recognition. So let us now acknowledge the unheralded heros of music – page turners, the musical everyman. "Bravo!" Without you the performance could not have taken place. Take a bow for a job well done. Take a bow for all of us. "Bravissimo!"

Music, the Antidote to Worry

I'm not sure why Thomas Weelkes' gem "O Care, thou wilt despatch me" (part 1) never crossed my musical path (shame on me!), but when I discovered the madrigal on the Choral Public Domain Library a few weeks ago I was quickly excited, delighted, and intrigued.

The title comprises the first line of the song. The five voices enter one at a time with a slow sigh motive – some rising a half step and returning, others dipping down a semitone before coming back to the original pitch. Out of this melodic material Weelkes weaves a mournful harmony with longing dissonances and despondent minor progressions. The music effectively captures the anguish of someone overwhelmed by worry.

But the next line, "if Music do not match thee," offers hope. My cares will weigh me down unless music is there to ease the burden. The melody begins with an upward movement, the harmony shifts to major, and the shorter rhythmic values picks up the pace. A few measures later the singers even break into a short "fa-la-la."

The optimism is short lived, however, for in the next line, "So deadly dost thou sting me," the mood shifts back to despair and pain (with an extremely painful dissonance of f against f# – do I dare perform that?). The piece ultimately ends on a positive note, including the return of the "fa-la-las," yet I sense that this is not a complete victory – a triumph tempered by the losses incurred in the battle. The "fa-la" refrain is too short and restrained to completely wipe out the memory of the previous pain.

Weelkes' setting of this short poem is direct, yet with wonderful touches of subtlety. It presents several challenges for my high school group. On the mechanical side, the chromaticism, shifting modalities, and dissonant harmonies can create intonation issues. On the interpretation side, it is critical to bring out the most important part at any particular point. It is also a bit of a trick to make the mood switches convincing while not over-playing them.

As wonderful as the music is, the text is equally appealing. Music is the antidote to worry and pain. How many times have I sought refuge there, losing myself in sound, making sense of the world through the logic of harmony and form, and easing my emotional strain by riding the emotions of the music?

For how many people has music been such a balm? It must have been so for Weelkes. What cares disturbed his sleep at night? As we sing "O Care" we share the comforting power of music with him.

Here are the lyrics to both parts of "O Care":

O Care, thou wilt despatch me,
If music do not match thee. Fa la.
So deadly dost thou sting me,
Mirth only help can bring me. Fa la.

Hence, Care, thou art too cruel,
Come, music, sick man’s jewel. Fa la.
His force had well nigh slain me,
But thou must now sustain me. Fa la.

Inexperienced Audiences: A Love Hate Relationship

I recently watched the webcast of Gustavo Dudamel conducting Beethoven's 9th at the Hollywood Bowl. It was an wonderful performance by the conductor, musicians, and singers. Unfortunately, the performance by the audience was less than wonderful, although no less audible.

OK, it's a summer crowd. For many this was their first classical concert. One can overlook the clapping between movements, the whooping, and even the shouting out to Gustavo. But the applause in the middle of the fourth movement – ouch!

What's one to do? Kill the enthusiasm? Pass out cards with the etiquette of concert attendance printed on them? Perhaps ushers with cattle prods to keep the masses in line?

No, classical music lovers are already viewed as snobs in popular culture. We don't need to turn people off to the beauty of great music, we need to turn them on. The only real option is to accept and educate.

For a number of years at Taft High School our concert audiences were, shall I say, "inappropriately vocal" during performances. Eventually, I decided to make a little speech at the beginning of each concert reminding the audience of how hard the musicians work on their music and how important it is to hear every note. Anything distracting from the performance is inconsiderate of their effort. After a few concerts, this began to work, and now our audiences are relatively well behaved.

Of course, a professional concert is not the same as a high school concert. A similar speech just wouldn't cut it at Disney Hall or even the Hollywood Bowl.

We can only hope that many of those overly boisterous Hollywood Bowl audiences members fell in love with classical music that night. Let's hope that some of them will begin to go to other concerts and eventually learn why clapping in the middle of a movement might not be such a good thing. I even hope that a few of the audience members at my high school concerts begin to appreciate the importance of hearing every nuance in every note.