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.

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.

Tell Me a Story

One of my favorite places to go to when I’m in Las Vegas is the Nine Fine Irishmen pub in the New York, New York casino. They serve good Irish food and have a nice variety of Irish beers and whiskeys, but the real reason I go is to hear the music played by the band Sin e Ri-Ra. The group does a wonderful job of presenting a nice mix of traditional Irish tunes and more contemporary Irish songs.

My Irish heritage probably contributes to my love of the Irish songs that speak of the hardships faced by the men and women from that land. But you do not have to have Irish blood to appreciate the tales. You are Irish, at least for the moment, if your ancestors were ever poor, persecuted, forced to emigrate, prejudiced against, or compelled to fight for their freedom; if they ever struggled with their inner demons, celebrated life with family, friends, and a good drink, or held on to faith in the face of a stern reality. At their core, individual cultures are all encompassing.

Musically, the material is fairly simple: primary chords, diatonic melodies, song forms, and chord based textures. To be sure, the band is composed of good musicians, and the fiddle player especially provides some very nice solos, but the real charm of the band lies in their ability to tell a story through music in a sincere and moving way. For the most part this is due to the talents of the singer, Darryl Conlon.

Listening to his Irish brogue, I can easily imagine that I’m sitting in a pub in Ireland while he tells his friends tales of good times and bad. He pauses in the right places to build affect, he gives a knowing grin as he tells an off-colored joke (“Seven Drunken Nights”), and his voice has a bitter sweet edge as he sings of love and despair (“Dirty Old Town”).

He lives the words as he sings them, and what amazes me is that he has sung them hundreds if not thousands of times. I’ve been coming to hear the band for several years now, and though many of the songs are the same, they are always fresh.

I think one can only do that if one loves telling the story as much as the actual story its self. The joy of communicating, the delight in reaching an audience, the pleasure of moving people's hearts: this is where the focus is.

It is not always easy to do that in choral singing. For one thing, everyone must be telling the same story – not simply literally, but interpretively. Where is the wink of an eye; which word should be stressed; what vocal tone best conveys the emotions of a section? Everyone needs to be clear on the musical message.

And the singers must really feel that message. The whole choir must first internalize the text in order to externalize it – pass it on to the audience. Music, when done well, has the unique ability to cut straight to the deepest parts of our heart and brain – vocal music perhaps even more so. Vocal music is a communication that at once embraces language and transcends it. Or one might say it is meaning enhanced language.

In the end, being musical is about loving the music and having the will and skill to communicate it affectively at the most intimate level.