Choral Potpourri: Going Back

“In the olden days, everybody sang. You were expected to sing as well as talk. It was a mark of the cultured man to sing.” Leonard Bernstein

 Is what we do “relevant?” Are the Old Masters we sing, or even the New Masters, relevant to the world as it is now? I have been doing a bit of soul searching lately about these very questions.

Singing used to be part of everyday life. We sang in school and in church and temple. We sang to our babies and our children. Everyone knew the words to folk songs and our National Anthem. We were a singing culture. It was the sign of a cultured person to be able to sing something, even if your voice wasn’t that great. And no one would think to call you “pitchy.” Choral singing was an enjoyable activity, in worship, in school and in our community. And professional choruses were admired by the general public. Singing in Latin or another foreign language was taken for granted, but singing a translation was okay too!

As I struggled with soul- searching, I came to the conclusion we are relevant. But it took a while to come to back to what I know to be true. I began to doubt myself, not because of my chamber choir and our mission and really, of my life’s work. All those doubts were the result of a chance meeting of a mere acquaintance.

Early in the fall, I ran into a visual artist I know slightly. I respect him and his work, let me be clear, but I don’t believe he feels the same about me. He told me about a new exhibit of his work. I told him about my November concert. He asked me what our repertoire was. I told him (a program of 19^th century motets and sacred music). He wrinkled up his nose and told me he thought it was no longer relevant to sing such a program. And that my choir and what we do are not relevant.

Having another artist tell me he believed what I do is no longer relevant affected me; much more than I expected. I should have laughed it off but for some reason, I couldn’t. I would never think to say in public that fellow’s paintings look like Cat Spit-Up. Even though that’s what I think about some of them. It is not respectful to another artist. And aren’t we “creative-types” in this thing together? Shouldn’t we be supportive of each together?

When I talked about this to a dear choral friend of mine, she opined visual artists seem to always want their new works exhibited, but the public wants the old. Rock musicians want to do new material, but the public wants their 1976 hit. And we classical musicians want to do older works, but the public wants new. Artists can’t win, can we?

This was in mid-September. I felt really crummy for a couple of rehearsals but bounced back. It helps that my singers “get” me and I, in turn, “get” them. I became determined to stay the course. I was making that proverbial lemonade and cultivating a whole rose garden, where I’ve been planted. I had my eyes on the prize with the whole nine yards. Pick your cliché; I was doing it! But in the back of my mind, a niggling little voice was repeating and repeating, “You and your choir are not relevant.”

As our concert neared, the climate in our country as the presidential election got closer was nastier and nastier. We declared rehearsals to be an “election-free” zone. All of us laughed about it; it was the only time during the whole week we could forget about who said what and just sing. Just sing. The day of the election was the last rehearsal before our concert, our dress rehearsal. It was two hours of bliss, singing Schubert and Bruckner and Rossini. All of us felt refreshed and were reluctant to go back outside to the real world. But we had to.

Our concert was the Sunday after one of the most contentious presidential elections in U.S. history. I don’t know the politics of my singers, nor do they know mine, but all of us seemed shaken as we gathered that day for Call. As we began to sing in performance, the audience seemed to relax. As we began Schubert’s “Heilig, Heilig” from his Deutches Messe I felt myself and my singers relax. We were calm and one with the music. And so was our audience. That’s what makes choral singing relevant; the ability to calm and comfort both singers and audiences when things are tough.

We’ll always be relevant; I have no doubt.