Choral Potpourri: Choral Ethics; Agonizing Over Mistakes

“Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.” Oscar Wilde

Daniel,*one of my favorite Young Church Musicians (YCM), has had a great church job for about five years. On the edge of the suburban community of a large city, the church appreciates him, his musicianship and his ability to get the choir singing. He’s a wonderful organist and is encouraged to invite the local AGO to have recitals at their church once a year. Daniel feels at home and has few complaints. The church is economically healthy and he never has to worry about getting his paycheck on time. About once a month, Daniel agonizes and second guesses himself about the church job he had before this one. And knows it isn’t healthy.

The subject came up about this former position when I sent out my regular choral ethics email to a group of friends and colleagues. Daniel responded with a question about a “friend” but soon confessed it was about him. He wanted to know if there was anything he could have done differently. After hearing his story, I don’t think there was.

Daniel was in a post-graduate program and needed to find a substantial church job. He had been a choral accompanist for a church throughout undergrad and grad school and was paid considerably less than the choir master/organist. His organ teacher heard of a job near Daniel’s parents’ home, out in the country. The pay was quite considerable compared to what he was being paid, so Daniel applied, auditioned, was interviewed, and then got the position. Looking back, he knows there were all sorts of red flags.

When he was hired, he was told there were two things most important to the church; they wanted to purchase an organ and wanted their choir started up again. He was a real organist, had a choral background so they expected him to be able to do both. He was to play two services a Sunday with the weekly choir practice between the services so he would only have to come in once a week.

Within months of being hired, the church council decided to cut music from the early morning Sunday worship service. Of course, his salary was adjusted. The church building was over one hundred years old and never had an organ. The sanctuary was small, so it would have to be a very special type of organ to be retrofitted in the space. Daniel did the research required and got various prices for several possible options. A congregation member had a friend who was trying to sell his late mother’s parlor organ, so the organ committee trooped out to see it. It was a dreadful electronic thing and even though they would get it for “free,” it would take quite a bit of money to move and repair so it would be usable. All agreed it was not an option and the organ committee stalled.

The worst part was the choir. Their past church musician had not been an organist or choir director. It was more of a “sing along” choir than a choir and had dwindled to three people. Daniel begged and pleaded with those three to stay with him, gathered other former choristers and started with a choir of ten. He had to convince them to sing real anthems instead of the “happy/clappy” stuff they had been singing. The clergy had played cello in high school so felt qualified to tell him what to do. Then, possibly the piece de resistance; the music committee chair who sang in the choir, was a Negative Nancy, vocal enough to blurt out “we’re awful” before he could stop and correct them in rehearsal. He did get them to sound decent after almost two years, but it was like pulling teeth.

Daniel was miserable every time he walked into that church and started to look for other positions. After he had been there for almost two years, three weeks before having to give a significant recital, Daniel was called into the clergy’s office for a performance review. He was asked to submit a resignation letter. When he asked why he was being asked to leave, he was told he hadn’t arranged to get an organ for the congregation, the choir wasn’t what they thought it should be AND he hadn’t played “Kum Ba Yah” peppy enough that last Sunday. He was stunned and left right away, leaving quite a bit of his music in the sanctuary. It took three months to get most of it back since he was not allowed in the church.

He still agonizes about “Kum Ba Yah,” wondering if he would have played it faster it would have made a difference. I told him no, it would not. There is no pleasing some people. We try and we try and when we don’t please them, we assume it’s our fault. It’s not. After some hand holding, I think Daniel finally knows that too.

*Name Withheld