Choral Potpourri/Choral Ethics: Songs My Mother Taught Me

In memory of Rose Marie Ditto Grass, November 24, 1927 to July 29, 2014

A few years ago, I decided I would write a book about something I now call “Choral Ethics.” A few things motivated me, including a rather unpleasant encounter at a community arts event with a choral colleague.  Nothing seemed to provoke our confrontation; in fact, I had just recommended the person for a rather nice job. But she was hell-bent on being unpleasant, so unpleasant she was.  At the time it was happening, I thought she was simply being “unprofessional” as well as something else I couldn’t define. As I was recovering from my encounter; I began thinking about behavior, specifically what we deem “professional” behavior in the choral world.

“Professional” means different things to different people and we musicians throw around the term all the time.  It may mean being on time for rehearsals and gigs, being cooperative and even collegial.  It may also mean practicing and being prepared— having the right music or a pencil handy–for rehearsal.  All would agree being a professional can mean being on time or bringing a pencil, but it is something much more. Professional may also be used to describe a conductor’s behavior—they may be calm and DON’T throw temper tantrums or are volatile and DO throw temper tantrums—there are those who believe either behavior indicates true professionalism in music.

As I began to think of what I would categorize as a lack of professionalism, it occurred to me it is not a lack of professionalism but a lack of some sort of accepted ethical guidelines within our profession. There are things we should not be doing, of course, and we all think we know what they are.  As far as other things are concerned, it is subtle.  Since the choral instrument is people, we must be concerned with people—our people—and that’s where the subtly comes in. It has only been recently, as I write, I understand what I believe to be choral ethics.

Physicians take an oath—the Hippocratic Oath–as they graduate from medical school and are awarded their M.D.s. They swear to “do no harm.”  I wonder if we should be required to do the same.  We must do no harm to our singers, both physically and emotionally, by using our knowledge of the human voice to prevent injury and by not emotionally abusing them by our behavior in rehearsals and out.  We must do no harm to our colleagues by not bad mouthing or undermining them in public to singers or audience members or the community at large. We must do no harm to our profession as a whole by upholding ourselves to as high a musical standard as possible within our scope of expertise and by respecting the rights of the composers we perform.

Each of us needs to think about our own personal code of ethics, ideally, beginning to develop our own code while in training. Those working with young conductors can begin the process by being a good example first and sharing their own codes of ethics with their students. Many believe it important to choose repertoire not in conflict with their own belief system, whether because of a composer’s behavior or a composition’s message.  That may be part of conductor’s personal code of ethics and is at least a place to begin.

I find my own teachers and conductors I have worked with as a singer influencing my own ethical code, whether positively or negatively. My own personal choral ethics code is a work in process but has three basic parts.  I try to treat my singers and accompanists as I would want to be treated.  I try to always say something good about my colleagues if at all possible and if I am not able, to keep my mouth shut. And I try to keep my own skills as good as in my capability.

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 of 2014 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.  That 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, 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 that 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.   I remember, very distinctly, her practicing the Queen of the Night runs almost every day well into her 60s, usually while doing the dishes.  These are the kinds of things most “civilians” take for granted–but those runs have to be practiced and practiced for them to stay in the voice.  In order to stay in practice for difficult things when you need to be, you have to practice.  Even when doing dishes. 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.