(This is the first installment of a five-part series on choral ethics, exploring what it means to be ethical in this often unethical business.)
Choral Ethics isn’t rocket science, complicated or anything we haven’t heard before, we just need to be reminded. Regularly.
I had planned to spend the summer much as I always do—relaxing with a bit of travel, doing research for future concerts for my chamber choir and concentrating on whatever writing projects I have on my plate. This summer’s writing included finishing editing a book of essays and work on my Choral Ethics book. I did not do anything because beginning in mid-June my Mother’s health rapidly deteriorated and she passed away in late July.
Mom was an opera singer (pictured in the accompanying photo), singing the role of the Queen of the Night and many operettas as well. As her six children came along, she specialized in oratorio work and was a paid church choir ringer until she was in her early 70s. We didn’t think it strange to have a mother gone several evenings a week for rehearsals or to be asked to help figure out what jewelry would go with which gown. During one of her hospitalizations last February, my brother and I agreed in the hospital corridor outside of her room she must be feeling better because she “had her Diva back” much to the horror of one of her nurses. We explained she had been an opera singer and we meant “Diva” in that sense….and it was good she was asking for her lipstick!
Mom’s death wasn’t a surprise but the quickness of her downhill spiral was. Driving back and forth to my parents’ home gave me time to think about Choral Ethics and my book. And I came to the conclusion the real inspiration for Choral Ethics and the whole concept was because of my mother, the coloratura soprano Rose Marie (Ditto) Grass. And in my drives to my parents’ home, it became clear those lessons occurring at Mother’s knee were attitudes I have brought into my adult life. I kept thinking about Mom in various situations and how she practiced what she preached. Through all the opera productions, concerts and worship services where Mom was soloist or Prima Donna, she had a graciousness, humbleness and kindness I thought everyone who was a musician possessed. She taught me much by the way she lived; managing to have a bit of a singing career, raising six very different individuals while being married to the same man for almost 60 years.
There is an incident when I was in high school which sticks in my mind. I was a junior and had just auditioned for the school musical, with my audition being pro forma since it was already understood I would have the lead. I came home from the audition gloating and, as Mom would say, “being ugly.” She snapped at me about my behavior. She told me not to get too comfortable about “always” getting the part and there would be plenty of times in my life I wouldn’t. She told me to treat everyone the way I would like to be treated if I hadn’t gotten the part. And she said if I didn’t behave as a “gracious winner,” she would pull me out of the show. I shaped up pretty quickly! Being a gracious winner, in addition to being a gracious loser, was just one of her lessons. We were expected to not gossip, be on time if at all possible and to pick up after ourselves.
As an adult and conductor, I try to uphold her values …but it is difficult. The evening she lay dying, we sang songs she taught us…songs no one sings anymore because they are old fashioned. I like to think her legacy besides those old songs will be the Choral Ethics Movement and being an ethical, moral choral conductor will never be out of fashion. It will be another “song” she has taught me.
Marie Grass Amenta says
Marie Grass Amenta says
Jane Becktel says
Rachel Gilmore says