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The Non-auditioned Choir: Dealing with Divas

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By Pat Guth

Every choir has them. The diva, divo, prima donna, egotist…whatever you prefer to call them. Whether you’re waving your arms in front of a choir of professionals or tending to an ensemble of amateurs, you’ve no doubt come across at least a singer or two who views himself/herself as superior to others in the group.

My first memory of one of these puffed-up creatures was some 40 years ago at my very first music ministry job in a tiny church in a Philly suburb. Technically, this person wasn’t even in my choir. Usually, she felt herself only worthy of doing solos, especially O Holy Night on Christmas Eve!. It was below her to sing ordinary anthems on Sunday mornings, especially if there was a chance that she wouldn’t shine through. 

I was young and didn’t know how to handle her or was too afraid to make waves, so I let it go. The behavior continued through my tenure there – some 6 years or so – and likely went on through the next several directors, who tended to be young people currently in or just out of college.

But I’ve learned a lot in 40 years! 

Is she/he a good diva or a bad diva?

As the director of a non-auditioned choir, I figured the diva issue wouldn’t be a big one for us. And it hasn’t been. However, my women’s chorus – which is very well-known in our region – has seen its share of wannabe stars in its nine years of existence. Sadly, whenever they arrive, they can be some of the most destructive forces in our ensemble. 

I’ve observed that there are two types of divas:

  • The first is the singer who truly is a wonderful vocalist but feels the need to let everyone else know that he/she is superior to others. I had one at the beginning of our choir journey and another fairly recently, both of whom caused alarming problems amongst the general population. We’ll call this diva Type 1.
  • The second is the singer who really isn’t that talented but thinks he/she is far better than the rest of the choir or section and, as such, believes she/he should strive to be a “vocal leader”. This means singing as loudly as possible and other assorted annoying behaviors. We’ll call this diva Type 2.

Each of these types needs to be handled differently, but they definitely need to be handled as soon as you – the director – recognizes they are stirring the proverbial pot.

Making the call

Let’s just start by saying I hate calling people and confronting them about a problem. Many of us do, but I feel like I have more phone anxiety than most. So, the easy way out these days, of course, would be to send the diva an email outlining the problem and presenting ideas for solutions. But that really isn’t the best road to take. Emails show no emotion, lack vocal inflection, and are easily misconstrued. There’s no better way to elicit hurt feelings than by sending a loaded email.

Let me add, however, that my goal is never to encourage the diva to leave the choir. I pride myself in the fact that I can figure out a way to get along with most people and I’m pretty good at problem solving, too. So, I approach issues with Type 1 and Type 2 as if I’m just trying to figure out a way that they can meld better with the rest of the choir population. I don’t want anyone to leave nor do I want them to feel as if I’m asking them to go.

Anyway, be sure to get that call set up as soon as possible. Find a time when you can speak uninterrupted and unhurried. (Before or after rehearsal is never a good idea because someone else always arrives early, stays late, or simply must talk with you!) Once you’ve chosen a time, stick to it and take some time beforehand to prepare what you’ll say. 

Handling Type 1s

For Type 1s, the talented diva, I always begin the phone call with compliments, when possible. Then I ask if they realized our group was non-auditioned when they chose to join. Most have said “yes” but it’s what they say afterwards that will dictate how you proceed. 

My first Type 1 was a professional, degreed singer. Her grandmother had been in my very first church choir so I had a special place in my heart for her. I found out about 6 weeks into our first season that she was being verbally abusive to other section members, correcting notes, complaining about their chatting, and – in general – trying to be the unappointed section leader. (We didn’t and still don’t have section leaders.) 

Thankfully, one of my members alerted me to the problem and told me that others were planning to quit if I didn’t rein her in. So, I initiated a phone call and after exchanging pleasantries, I let her know directly but kindly that I was aware that her behavior was making many singers uncomfortable. Her reaction? She told me she was just trying to help, slammed down the phone (well, not really because you can’t do that anymore), and returned her music and uniform. That was the last I saw of her.

I thought that was too bad because I believe there’s a place for the confident and skilled singer in a non-auditioned choir. With the right attitude, she could have been a great mentor to others not as experienced in singing but, instead, she chose to be offended and we never saw her again. Many were relieved. I suppose I was too but also a little bit sad because – ever the teacher – I felt as if she had missed a good opportunity. 

Since then, I’ve had other similar personalities who I might classify as Type 1 divas. Some met a similar demise but others have turned their superior attitudes to that of being the helpful, more experienced chorister who nurtures others, recognizing that if they wanted to remain part of our group they may want to rethink their position. 

Still, another few left when they realized that perhaps we – a non-auditioned chorus – were not the right vehicle for their choral expedition. They went on to find choirs that were a better fit…and that’s fine. 

Handling Type 2s

In many ways, the Type 2 diva is more difficult to tame because they tend to have an inflated opinion of themselves that is unwarranted…and they really don’t want to hear otherwise. 

I had one of those in my ensemble a few years after we started singing together. She had sung in numerous barbershop-style choirs where competition was everything. As such, she believed that’s what choir was all about so, from the beginning, she strived to prove she was the best and forgot about the joy of singing together.

As we are a large choir, I don’t always notice when someone is out of their seat and sitting someplace else, especially near the beginning of the year. But I found out a few weeks into the season that this eager chorister was moving her fellow second sopranos from seat to seat, declaring that she had to put those who “couldn’t sing” next to those who could. 

Imagine how offensive that must have been for those deemed a “bad” singer by this misguided soul! I must admit, I blew my top a little with that one – we’re all human – and she chose to leave when I let her know that her section mates were not at all pleased with her behavior. 

She was the same person who often questioned me and my techniques or methods – out loud – during rehearsals. 

“Aren’t you going to fix that?” “Are you  EVER going to add dynamics?” “I think the (insert other sections) don’t know their part.” “My other choir director did it this way, etc., etc.”

That only added to the bitter feelings others felt towards her so I knew it had to be addressed quickly. And it was. 

Protecting your (ordinary) choir members from the divas

I like to think my adult women can take care of themselves, but singing is very personal, and singers – especially the ones that aren’t so confident – are so vulnerable to the criticisms of others. That makes it necessary to address potential diva-related situations before they arise, if possible. (Of course, I don’t refer to them as diva-related situations, simply “ways we help each other.”)

So, each season – or a few times per season, if I feel it necessary – we have “the talk.” During this dialogue, we talk about what singing means to us, how it brings us together, and how singing in a choir should be an option for everyone, regardless of experience or skill level. I allow others to chime in, if they wish. 

Then, I talk about what it means to be part of an all-volunteer, non-auditioned choir and what constitutes respect for one another’s talents. It’s okay to offer help, for example, but there’s a right way and wrong way to do it. It’s okay to let me know what someone is struggling, but do it out of earshot from others. It’s fine to get frustrated, but let me try to fix it before you decide it’s not worth your time to stick with us.

The dynamics of a non-auditioned choir are far different from one with trained, impeccable voices that rarely make mistakes and take plenty of time to practice at home. For many of my women, choir is simply a much-needed outlet – one that whisks them away from the problems at work, the frustrations of a bad relationship, or the loneliness of a life without family. And, of course, they love to sing, too.

I’m adamant that each one of my choir members deserves a comfortable, welcoming place to sing. That’s why we strive to be a diva-free zone and why I enlist everyone to be part of the solution and to do what’s necessary to make our rehearsals and performances judgement-free.

Top 2020 Choral Solutions During the Pandemic: A Fast Track to Success

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By Rebecca Lord

Tired of reading long lists? Overwhelmed with too many ideas, platforms, and resources? Need immediate, workable solutions for your choir during the pandemic? Then this article is for you. The recommendations included are tried and true, offered by those among us who have blazed the trails with their choirs through the early days of the pandemic.

DEFINE YOUR GOALS & PARAMETERS

To make your problem-solving process most efficient, begin by answering these questions:

  1. What are the top priorities for my choir during the pandemic (e.g., vibrant social connections, maximal enrollment, virtual choir performances, skill and knowledge development)?
  2. What resources do I have access to?
  3. What are the hurdles?

The answers to these questions will help you streamline your efforts. The advice of Meg Davies, associate manager and producer for Eric Whitacre, hits home: “Always evaluate what your purpose is … prioritize your goals and find the best methodology for achieving those rather than just doing something because someone else did it and said it was great.”

Flexibility is also crucial during this time. Dianne Berkun Menaker, artistic director of the Grammy-winning Brooklyn Youth Chorus, reminds us that during the pandemic “there is no pre-existing playbook … If you don’t shift your goals, you will feel like you have failed. And you haven’t.”

TEAM UP FOR TRIUMPH

There are too many hats to wear as a conductor right now to fly solo while keeping your standards high and your sanity and health intact. You need practical help with the increased demands and greater understanding and patience from those you serve. Both needs will be met as you build a team. “People’s creative juices are flowing … it’s a nice opportunity to get your members involved in [ways] they otherwise might not have been,” explains Dr. Thea Kano, artistic director of the Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington, D.C.

Areas to seek help:

  • Audio and video editing
  • Tech needs during teaching (e.g., monitoring chats during Zoom rehearsals)
  • Social-media management
  • Brainstorming (e.g., Dr. Randall Kempton organized his choir into research teams at Brigham Young University – Idaho; other conductors are holding brainstorming Zoom meetings)

TOP TEN SUGGESTIONS FOR CHOIRS

First, a note that while efforts are being made to develop lag-free video communications, a mainstream solution is not yet available and likely will not be imminently. For now, plan on one-way sound for actual rehearsing.

  1. Keep meeting (and try Zoom)! Maintaining a live connection with and between singers is the most crucial component for a choir’s survival. Michael Wu notes the singers in his Strathmore Children’s Chorus “loved the fact that we … were regular and deliberate in keeping the rehearsal time … that we connected with them.” They told him, “you give us a reason to Zoom; we’re here by choice!”

All of the conductors I interviewed have been using Zoom, noting its ease of use and helpful features such as chat, breakout rooms for smaller groups, and the possibility to call-in. Consider keeping Zoom meetings open before and after rehearsals to facilitate socializing.

  1. Communicate regularly and positively! Your singers need to see the vision, feel inspired, and practically know what is happening and how to participate (e.g., some need help with technology).
    • Angie Johnson, artistic director of Young Naperville Singers says, “Stop apologizing for being virtual and celebrate what you CAN do … [and] how we will grow/be better than normal when we come through this.”  Her choir has developed hashtags such as #keepsinging and #singthroughthestorm.
    • Dr. Anne Matlack, president of the ACDA New Jersey Chapter trains during Zoom meetings. “I screenshare and show them what we’ve put online (the practice tracks), and we sing along.” 
  1. Prioritize singing! It’s great to supplement with other activities, but don’t forget your members joined choir to sing. Dr. Anne Matlack notes, “most of my singers have gone from singing two to six hours a week to two to six minutes a week.” They have requested “more vocalizing, more warm-ups!”
  1. Shorten rehearsals. 30-minute rehearsals have been successful for many conductors. Dr. Thea Kano notes that “we sit … in front of our computers all the time now, so our patience and attention span is getting … smaller.” Her singers find the shortened rehearsals “surprisingly fun!” If you keep your full rehearsal time, be sensitive to Zoom fatigue and build in variety and physical movement.
  1. Repertoire: Choose satisfying repertoire that is doable with the current challenges. Dianne Menaker notes, “Pieces that are more complicated, in six to eight parts, I would not consider … Two to three parts is fine … this is not forever.” Try introducing new music to the full choir and allowing everyone to learn and love the melody together before starting sectionals.
  1. Balance sectionals, full group, and individual attention:
    • Sectionals are great for teaching new repertoire.
    • For morale, also meet regularly as a full ensemble, even if you are not rehearsing each time.
    • Find ways to give individual feedback. You might shorten rehearsals to 30 minutes and use the remaining time to rotate small groups, or to offer mini lessons. Check out Calendly.com for easy scheduling with your singers. Calendly generates and e-mails Zoom links (Chorus America, 2020).
  1. Provide home-study materials and expectations: Since audio is largely one-way, assign singers to learn their notes independently and save rehearsals for musical details. Provide practice tracks, recordings, or other home-study tools. Make recordings of rehearsals available (both links and downloads).
  1. Vary activities on Zoom and take advantage of unique opportunities!
    • Invite guests! Most artists are stuck at home and are potentially more available (and inexpensive) than usual.  “[Our] interviews with composers … were tremendously successful,” said Dr. José “Peppie” Calvar, assistant director of choral activities for Syracuse University.  “At least one student … was inspired to compose music for the first time after being part of one of these interviews.”
    • Build skills (e.g., musicianship, camera and microphone skills, vocal technique and artistry, and technology). Christine Noel, Rhode Island Children’s Chorus artistic director alternates rehearsing with “sight singing, ear training, break-out activities, conducting, body percussion; I try to make it as enriching as possible.”
    • Highlight singers or staff to get better acquainted.
    • Games (e.g., Kahoot, https://kahoot.com/home/).
    • Cabaret night: Singers can perform or present on any topic.
    • Extra projects.  For example, see Dr. Doreen Fryling’s “High School Online Learning Options: Growing as Musicians” (https://doreenfryling.org/2020/03/17/high-school-choir-online-learning-options-growing-as-musicians/). No conductor preparation or instruction is required (recommended by Sarah Prickel-Kane, president of the ACDA Rhode Island Chapter).
  1. Try Flipgrid or Soundtrap!
    • Flipgrid (https://info.flipgrid.com/) provides a free space to connect, interact, and collect and share text, pictures, links, audio and video files. You can respond to singers publicly and privately. Everything is in one easy place.  You can even collect recordings for virtual choir projects!
    • Soundtrap (https://www.soundtrap.com/) is an online recording studio. It’s easy to use, free for the singers. There is a fee for the conductor, school, or district (varies). Dianne Berkun Menaker uses the program with her Brooklyn Youth Chorus. She sets up a project and enters all voice parts. Singers record directly into the project and save only their favorite takes. Each participant can turn on/off and set levels for any tracks in the project, customizing their experience. It’s great as a practice tool so singers can hear themselves with the choir – also an option for basic mixing and downloading of a performance.
  1. Take care of the community! Keep your patrons, community, and organizations invested through a combination of:
    • Newsletters and other communications
    • Virtual choir performances
    • Archival footage
    • Outreach to nursing homes and other shut-in groups in the community with your projects and recordings
    • Special projects (e.g., solos, small virtual groups, interviews, stories of singers, composers, and others).

TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF AND YOUR SINGERS

In making or influencing decisions that may have life-or-death consequences, the three pieces of advice that rang through loud and clear were: “Be Safe!” “Be Accommodating!” and “Be Supportive!”

Be Safe! Know the latest safety guidelines and risk factors for singing before choosing or advocating for any face-to-face interactions. For example, key safety guidelines from the Aug. 6, 2020 “International Coalition of Performing Arts Aerosol Study Round 2” (https://www.nfhs.org/media/4030003/aerosol-study-prelim-results-round-2-final.pdf) include:

Here are some organizations providing COVID-19 updates for singing, often including the latest safety guidelines:

  • Surgical-quality well-fitting masks (e.g., no gaps), worn at all times by all participants, both indoors and outdoors
  • 6’ distancing both indoors and outdoors, with masks in place.
  • 30-minute maximum for gatherings, and then full air change(s), both indoors and outdoors.
  • HEPA filtration indoors.
  • Hand hygiene before and after touching any shared surfaces.

Here are some organizations providing COVID-19 updates for singing, often including the latest safety guidelines:

Be Accommodating! Provide options for remote participation and do not pressure singers to return. Dianne Berkun Menaker reminds us: “Who knows what’s happening in an individual home with the illness?… Any time you can give the students a little room to decide how to engage, do it. We’re trying to encourage people to stay involved, not put more stress on them, so when we come back, they are still involved and they still want to sing together.”

Be Supportive! “While you, yourself, are trying to cheerlead for everyone else … [you] need moments to be sad as well,” Dr. Anne Matlack says.  “It helps when colleagues can share that.” Robyn Reeves Lana, artistic director of the Cincinnati Youth Choir reminds us of the rainbow waiting at the end of the storm: “Imagine the day when you can come back … and sing together … how much more powerful will that memory be if you’ve sung through the storm and didn’t just quit!”

In recent years, Dr. Rebecca Lord has served on the choral/vocal faculty of Brigham Young University-Idaho and as Associate Director of Choral Activities at the University of California, Los Angeles, where she earned MM and DMA degrees.  She also served as Chorus Master for Arizona Musicfest and Assistant Conductor for the Hour of Power choir. She has a background as a professional violinist, soprano, dancer, and actress. Dr. Lord is temporarily teaching part-time, as she is enjoying being a new mother.

REFERENCES

  • Anne Matlack (President, American Choral Directors Association NJ Chapter; Artistic Director, Harmonium Choral Society; Grace Church, Madison, NJ), phone interview with Rebecca Lord, July 5, 2020.
  • Brigham Young University-Idaho Collegiate Singers, Zoom interview with Rebecca Lord, July 8, 2020.
  • Christine Noel (Founder and Artistic Director, Rhode Island Children’s Chorus), phone interview with Rebecca Lord, July 11, 2020.
  • Dianne Berkun Menaker (Founder and Artistic Director, Grammy Award-winning Brooklyn Youth Chorus), phone interview with Rebecca Lord, July 14, 2020.
  • José “Peppie” Calvar (Assistant Director of Choral Activities, Syracuse University), e-mail to Rebecca Lord, July 12, 2020.
  • Lana, Robyn Reeves, Angie Johnson, and Joshua Pedde, “Connecting Through Technology,” (2020 Virtual Conference Session), Chorus America, June 18, 2020.
  • Meg Davies (Associate Manager & Producer, Eric Whitacre), Zoom interview with Rebecca Lord, July 13, 2020, e-mail to Rebecca Lord, July 27, 2020.
  • Michael Wu (President, American Choral Directors Association Maryland/DC Chapter, Artistic Director, Strathmore Children’s Chorus, Conductor, Landon School, Bethesda), phone interview with Rebecca Lord, July 7, 2020 and e-mail to Rebecca Lord, July 6, 2020.
  • Randall Kempton (Director of Choral Activities, Brigham Young University-Idaho), Zoom interview with Rebecca Lord, July 8, 2020.
  • Robyn Reeves Lana (Founder, Managing Artistic Director & Conductor, Cincinnati Youth Choir), phone interview with Rebecca Lord, July 22, 2020.
  • Sarah Prickel-Kane (President, American Choral Directors Association Rhode Island Chapter; Conductor, Narragansett High School; Conductor, Rhode Island Children’s Chorus), phone interview with Rebecca Lord, July 13, 2020.
  • Thea Kano (Artistic Director, Federal City Performing Arts Association, Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington, DC), Zoom interview with Rebecca Lord, July 8, 2020.
  • Weaver, James, Mark Spede, Shelly Miller, Jelina Srebric, Jean Hertzberg, Abhishek Kumar, Sameer Patel, Tehya Stockman, Darin Toohey, Marina Vance, Nicholas Mattise, Sebastian Romo, Lingzhe Wang, and Shengwei Zhu, “International Coalition of Performing Arts Aerosol Study Round 2, August 6, 2020, https://www.nfhs.org/media/4030003/aerosol-study-prelim-results-round-2-final.pdf.

The Non-auditioned Choir: What about the Pitch-Challenged?

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By Pat Guth

When you’ve taken on the reins of a non-auditioned choir or – in my case – purposely formed one from scratch, you shoulder a plethora of challenges that conductors of auditioned or professional choirs will never face. Some of these challenges can be quite tricky, especially when you’re keen to welcome everyone and to make your choir space one that is comfortable and judgment-free for all, no matter their skill or experience.

I spent 42 years in church music ministry before I retired a few years ago and, of course, that’s a place where many conductors first encounter those who can’t match pitch or who are easily distracted by others around them who are singing different parts. We struggle with what to do because “Betty” or “Joe” has been singing with the choir for 50 years and we don’t want to be the one to tell them they can’t sing anymore. So, more often than not, we just let it go because nobody wants to make waves. After all, Joe’s family did donate the piano in the sanctuary!

However, in my nearly 100-voice non-auditioned women’s chorus, which has been around for just short of 9 years, I’ve handled things a bit differently. After all, these singers pay a tuition fee and they expect a top-notch experience unencumbered by the pitch-challenged, even if they do recognize that there is no prerequisite for joining.

Throughout my tenure with this choir, I’ve been fortunate enough to attract mostly singers who don’t struggle with pitch or with learning their parts. But we do get the occasional singer who, unfortunately, just doesn’t sing well . . . yet.

I’ve noticed that there are two kinds of struggling singers: the ones who recognize their shortcomings so sing quietly and really don’t affect anyone around them, and the ones who stick out like a sore thumb, as the saying goes, totally unable to hear their part but singing robustly, nonetheless. Dealing with the latter is where the challenge often arises because those around the out-of-tune singer begin to complain after a while.

“Aren’t you going to do something about Eleanor?” a gang of altos says to me after a rehearsal. “She can’t sing and she’s throwing us off.”

I manage to keep the eye-rolling to a minimum, admit that I’ve heard something unusual coming from the Alto 1 section, and promise to take care of it. But how?

If you’re in a similar position to mine, this has likely happened to you. In my ensemble, it’s occurred a handful of times over the last several years and I sometimes still struggle with how to handle it, especially if I’ve become really fond of the individual who seems to be the culprit or if I recognize that this person really “needs” our choir.

So, do you approach that person and tell her that others around her believe she’s struggling with her part? Probably not. That hasn’t worked for me thus far. But you can’t just let it go either because other singers will get to the breaking point and take it into their own hands. I’ve seen it happen and it wasn’t pretty. Feelings were hurt. I had to step in and reprimand the bullies. It didn’t make for a happy situation, it put a damper on the concert season, and nothing was solved.

Offering my help

Generally, my gut reaction in such scenarios is to personally offer to work with the pitch-challenged singer. So, at the next rehearsal I make sure I saunter past that person as she is singing so that I can say that I “personally” detected a problem.

Next, I call the singer and awkwardly tell them that I thought perhaps I heard them struggling (“This music is really hard. No wonder you’re having a problem!”) and offer to meet with them personally to review their part or to help them learn how to better use our recorded choral tracks to practice at home. That’s usually met with a “No, thanks. I’ll get it eventually.”

I understand that. Though I pride myself in being a kind, vulnerable, welcoming conductor, I’m still intimidating. After all, I’m the conductor. The one in charge. The last thing a singer wants others to know is that she needed to have a session with the conductor! That speaks of incompetence and the inability to keep up with others. She may as well just quit.

Putting it in someone else’s hands

However, there are other options. I find that most of my aurally-challenged individuals will respond better to help from a peer. In most choirs, I’ve discovered, it’s not difficult to find a fellow singer who is willing to lend a hand.

A number of the women in my choir have taken it upon themselves to form practice groups outside of rehearsals. As we have a fairly hefty concert schedule in “normal” times, many have recognized that they need more than just the two hours we have on Monday nights to master their parts. So, they gather together an additional time each week (or a few times a month) for that extra preparation time.

So, when I find someone who needs assistance, I target these groups and ask them to invite their singing sister to their next gathering. Or, I ask a singer who I know has superior skills if she would take this person under her wing. Sometimes it takes a few tries to find the right match but, overall, it’s worked wonderfully.

Here’s an example of a success story.

A handful of years ago, we acquired a new member who had never sung in a choir previous to joining us. It was evident that she was truly struggling and had thought about quitting, but because she had paid for the entire year she decided to stick it out. In addition, she had signed up for our performance tour that spring, which included a choral festival and the need to learn a major work by Haydn. I was frantic. I couldn’t imagine her ever learning that very complicated alto part.

Enter the woman who sat next to her, a lovely retired teacher of a similar age who had never lost her teacher instincts. She had also been a violinist in her younger years, had excellent pitch, and was always on the ball when it came to learning her parts. Without any prompting from me, she let me know that she was working with this individual and that all would be fine by tour time. And it was. I was so proud of both of them.

Don’t be embarrassed to ask for help

Ever since that happened, I’ve made it a point to remind my choir members to listen for anyone around them who might be struggling and, if they feel able, to offer to work with them. It’s amazing the number of practice pairs and small groups that have formed because of that simple request. In addition, it’s a task that makes both the teacher and student feel good when all is said and done.

Truly, seeking help from your choir members to assist other singers is a win-win situation. Together, my musically-gifted choir members and I have succeeded in turning several non-singers into very good choir members who can now stand on their own and who may – one day – become a mentor for someone else.

I believe there is no such thing as a person who can’t sing. It just takes the right kind of nurturing from the right kind of person (or people) to turn that individual into someone who can be a valuable part of the choir and who can enjoy a fun, stress-free choral experience that’ll keep them singing for the rest of their life. And that’s what it’s all about.

Non-auditioned Choirs – and Their Conductors – Are at the Heart of Community Singing

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By Pat Guth

For the first 40 years of my musical career, I spent a lot of time dealing with “imposter syndrome” – that nagging feeling when you doubt your accomplishments and have a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a “fraud.” Maybe you’ve been there, too. It’s not uncommon among artists of all kinds.

I launched what should have been viewed as a successful career after earning my degree from a very prestigious conservatory-type music college, but never quite felt like I measured up. After all, some of my classmates were singing opera. Others led award-winning ensembles, while others were building incredible programs in schools or churches. I taught elementary classroom music until I became pregnant with my first child then quit. I continued in my field by teaching private lessons and taking underpaid jobs at area churches where they loved my credentials but didn’t really want to pay what I was worth.

That likely contributed to my poor self-esteem but it’s how I kept my hand in choral music while raising a family. It worked for me. Nevertheless, I often found myself defending the fact that I wasn’t working full-time in my chosen profession. I started to feel that maybe I wasn’t as “serious” about my passion as they were. (Spoiler alert: I was!)

Finally, when I was 52 and my youngest was a senior in high school, I decided to travel on a new musical journey. I had always wanted to conduct a secular community choir but had hesitated to form a new one because there were already so many top-notch ensembles located near my suburban Philadelphia home.

If I started yet another auditioned chorus for experienced, educated singers, would mine measure up? Would I spend the next several years trying to catch up to those long-established ensembles? How would I get my name out there and who would respond? After all, I was a relative unknown, despite my decades of experience in choral music.

I thought about this for months and finally decided that I would be a renegade amongst (most of) my peers and attempt to form a non-auditioned choir instead, perhaps one just for women as there was a definite lack of women’s choirs in my area. We would welcome anyone: Those who studied voice. Those who hadn’t sung since middle school or high school. Those who – gasp! – had never sung in a choral ensemble of any kind. That meant taking the good with the bad. The pitch perfect with the pitch-challenged.

So on a hot July day I took a deep breath, reviewed my options, wrote a press release (and was fortunate that the local paper was intrigued enough to write a story about this undertaking), and by the time we had our initial “meet-and-greet” in late August, I welcomed 81 women ages 20-something to 80-ish to my new choral ensemble. Oh happy day! We were already a success!

Still Dealing with That Feeling

Honestly, this project took off pretty quickly. To kick-off with 80 singers was nothing short of amazing. And we made a pretty decent sound from the start, considering that only about half the choir could read music and scores of our singers had NEVER been part of a musical ensemble of any sort.

Yes, we had a handful of individuals who were musically-challenged and another handful that were pretty advanced, but most landed somewhere in the middle and – for the most part – we made a pleasant sound. We spent a lot of time banging out notes but we tackled some not-so-easy harmonies and pulled off a first semester that was – for me and my singers – one for the record books.

Was it perfect? Far from it. But there was something special about it that I couldn’t exactly put my finger on until a little further into the project. Was it joy perhaps? Satisfaction? Elation? Maybe all those smiles meant something. And how about the fact that everyone started arriving 15 minutes early and staying 15 minutes late just so they could spend time chatting with their fellow singers?

Still, I had that nagging thought in the back of my mind that I was doing something less than what I was worth. I still had a feeling that perhaps I wasn’t living up to my abilities by choosing to start a non-auditioned choir rather than assemble a group of experienced singers.

But the happy voices, the smiling faces, and the friendships that were forming started to convince me otherwise.

Singing and Friendship Go Hand-in-Hand

Sadly, choirs – even community choirs – can be a place where unnecessary competition between singers can easily damage one’s love of singing. My husband (also a singer) and I had joined a few auditioned choirs in our younger years and were saddened by the atmosphere that surrounded us. The tension was palpable. We didn’t need more stress in our lives so we moved on.

Instead, what I believe we had created with this burgeoning ensemble of ours was a group of women who loved to sing but also loved each other. Sounds sappy, right? But that’s what it was. It was a joy to watch from the podium as the relationships between singers became solid and as members began to rely on each other not only for the next note but to get them through life’s challenges as well. And no one cared if the person in the chair beside them was a better singer.

It was exciting to see it unfold. I watched contentedly as lunch dates were made, parties were organized, play dates were arranged, and hands were held. I was asked if we could form a “Sunshine Committee” and collect a few dollars from each member so that we could offer support through cards and gifts. I observed joyously as my singing group become a true community.

And I was right in the thick of it . . . and still am! I’ve always been the social type, but my “girlfriends” tended to be the mothers of my children’s friends. Now I had finally discovered the joy of being social with musical friends who weren’t necessarily professionals but who simply loved to sing.

So, I started initiating parties, banquets, and outings. Not everyone joined in, but most did. We stayed together through the summers by going out to dinner, bowling, enjoying picnics, laughing about our attempts to escape from those popular mystery rooms. Before long, this choir – which had grown quickly to nearly 100 singers – was a central part of my life and I was blessed to be a central part of their lives as well.

Before you could blink, we started traveling together. Our first performance tour happened during the summer after our second year together. Fifty-seven adventurers (not all singers) headed to Northern Italy to sing in some of the most incredible venues. Two years later, we toured Hungary and Austria, and two years after that, our love of singing and travel took us to Finland, Estonia, and Sweden. Sadly, COVID-19 stole our trip to Greece but we’ll get there. Still, these trips offered not only stellar musical highs but also more together time. More bonding. More memories that will never be forgotten. Never. Truly, some of the best days of my life were spent traveling with these women.

It was all so awesome that sometimes I wondered if I could keep the magic alive. And did all of this mean I had finally “made it” in the world of choral music?

Maybe. I still wasn’t sure. But I also was pretty sure that it didn’t matter to me any longer. 

The Conductor MUST Be Part of the Community

What I DID know, however, was that I had found the key to success in the community choir realm.

As I mentioned previously, during our almost 40 years of marriage, my husband and I had checked out several community choirs, usually intrigued by their programs. (“Ooh, I’d love to sing Elijah again!”) Some were auditioned ensembles and others were open to all. But we discovered one thing that many of these choruses had in common: a conductor that stayed on the fringes.

For example, whenever a social event was scheduled for one of these groups (and such events were rare), the conductor wasn’t there or chose only to make a brief appearance. He/she gladly accepted pats on the back and hearty handshakes but did little else to become a part of the ensemble. I always got the idea that the maestro/maestra thought that spending too much time with the singers wasn’t in their best interest and was maybe even below them. Maybe they worried that if they became too friendly their singers would lose respect for them as a leader. They were afraid to be “one of the gang.”

That’s too bad. I think the opposite is true. To make your community chorus a true community, you – the conductor – MUST lead the way. For us, it started with me setting up twice-a-year parties, one in January to celebrate a successful holiday season and one in June to recap the joys of our spring concerts. Then we scheduled dinners after concerts, picnics at local parks during the off-season, and just about anything else we knew our members would enjoy, like going to sing-alongs at the local movie theater.

Why? The reasons are simple. We all crave friendship, even the shyest of us, and friendship with someone who shares music and sings with you is extra special. In addition – and perhaps most importantly – for many of our singers who live alone – either because they’re single, divorced, or widowed – we were the only social outlet they had. We were that one thing that helped them avoid loneliness and make it through the week. We were an essential business, as the term goes.

Happily, because I think we all recognized this pretty early on, we quickly became a support system and I was proud and humbled to be at the helm of this musical ship. Furthermore, I knew it was important that I remain deeply involved.

Besides, it was just as much a blessing for me as it was for my 90+ singers. I can’t tell you the number of times these women have told me that joining choir was the best decision they’ve made in a long time and then proceeded to tell me a story about how a fellow singer stepped in to help them. One older women confided in me that the choir had literally saved her life after she plunged into a deep depression upon losing two close family members in a short amount of time.

What do you say to that? Thank you? I’m so happy for you? No. You just smile and touch your heart with your hand, unable to speak.

So Am I There Yet?

In the eight years we’ve been together, “my beautiful ladies” – as I refer to them – have traveled 25,000 miles (round trip) to awesome destinations, have been invited to sing at The White House twice, learned approximately 200 pieces of music, presented nearly 100 concerts, and are waiting to find out if the Thanksgiving Day Parade for which they’ve been chosen to participate will be a go during this crazy year.

In the meantime, we’re holding virtual “Learn to Read Music” lessons for our non-readers, playing Name That Tune or trivia on Zoom every Wednesday, inviting other professionals to present webinars, and holding out hope that we’ll be together again sooner rather than later. The friendships keep us steady.

We’ve sung for everyone from Dr. Ben Carson in the East Room of the “People’s House” to a group of young moms living in a facility for recovering drug addicts and alcoholics. We shared the stage with the rock band Foreigner. (That was pretty exciting for this 70s girl!) Some concerts were flawless. Others had a few glitches. But each was a gift to us and – I hope – to the people who listened to our music.

So, am I still an imposter? Have I “made it” in the world of choral music?

Well, if you were to listen to those in charge of the festivals and conferences to which I consistently send DVDs of my beautiful ladies in consideration for performing at those events, I haven’t. Sadly, they can’t see the elation on the faces of my choir when they sing. They only hear those two first sopranos who are a little flat or that cut off that wasn’t quite perfect.

While I’m a little disappointed every time I get a “sorry, you haven’t been chosen” letter, I’m not surprised. Choral elitism is alive and well, which is too bad. Those who make the selections don’t know what they’re missing by turning away this delightful but slightly flawed ensemble. We would make their audiences clap for joy. We’ve done it many times.

And as for me, I’m now positive that I’ve “made it”, simply because I’m tremendously satisfied and completely overjoyed about what I’m doing these days. And while I might never be up there in the ranks of those who lead at a major university or wave their arms in front of a symphony chorus. I know that what I do is important and that we’ve created a community that makes a difference. And it shows in the faces of each and every one of my wonderful singers.

I’ll tell you how I know this to be true.

In 2018, when our tour choir members were in Tallinn, Estonia, we had the pleasure of being hosted by a magnificent local women’s ensemble. Their technique was flawless and they sounded like heaven. After our joint concert, one of my singers approached one of theirs to express how awed she was by this superb ensemble. “You sing like angels. Thank you!” my singer said, her voice filled with a good deal of emotion.

And the other singer, with tears in her eyes, responded, “Yes, but you sing with joy!”

Pat Guth is the founder and director of the Bucks County Women’s Chorus (Pennsylvania) and a proud alumna of Westminster Choir College. She recently retired after 42 years in church music ministry and devotes much of her time to keeping her community choir afloat, especially during this difficult time. Pat enjoys helping others to nurture non-auditioned ensembles and also works as a freelance writer and editor for websites and print publications.

Young Trebles: The Silence of a Children’s Choir in the Time of COVID-19

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By Corey Carleton

The treble voices are clear, strong, and at times overwhelm the acoustics of Fellowship Hall at a Presbyterian church on Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena. It’s a large, live room.

“Are you heavy or light?” Fernando Malvar-Ruiz asks his Concert Choir. Malvar-Ruiz is “Mr. Fernando” to his singers, and Artistic Director of the esteemed Los Angeles Children’s Chorus (LACC).

“Heavy,” several choristers respond. “OK, what can you do to keep this from being heavy?” A few singers call out, “Support.” “That’s right. You need to support your breath,” he agrees. Then adds in his charming Spanish accent, “Let’s see if you can fix it,” he calls from the piano. They try again “Better,” he says.

It’s a Tuesday night in late February and the Concert Choir of LACC is rehearsing for an upcoming gig. The Concert Choir is the organization’s professional treble choir that performs with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, LA Opera, and other A-list classical acts in town. The singers are mostly teenage girls, with a few boys in their soprano prime. Members audition every year to make sure they have a spot in the choir, or move up the ranks of the three apprentice choirs that develop these young musicians into proficient singers. It is not going too far to say LACC’s Concert Choir has one of the most beautiful ensemble sounds on the West Coast. 

Now he gives them a new vocal exercise on the vowels “see-ah” – ascending legato arpeggios on “see” followed by staccato arpeggios descending on “ah.”

“Nice!” He encourages his singers enthusiastically, “Very good! Can you do it again?”

Mr. Fernando’s language is respectful. His rhetoric positive. This is how he drives a roomful of middle schoolers and teenagers beyond their perceived limits. The scene unfolding before me is a best-case scenario of how the art of choral singing is passed down from one generation to another.

On March 4, just over a week before Los Angeles began sheltering in place, LACC’s Concert Choir was at The Wallis in Beverly Hills, warming up to rehearse for an NPR live radio show, From the Top, co-hosted by Peter Dugan and violinist Vijay Gupta. I dropped my son off in the afternoon for a dress rehearsal, and returned that night for the performance with a last-minute ticket in the front row. I sat next to a CEO, who introduced himself. Inches apart in our theater seats, we opted to literally rub elbows instead of shaking hands, because, you know, COVID-19, we told each other.

The show was one classical music youth act after another. High school boys playing a saxophone quartet, middle schoolers playing Chopin on the piano, or Brahms on violin. One girl was a high school junior and a gorgeously refined cellist. Each act was interviewed by the duo, who asked them about their personal experiences of mastering an instrument. Artful music making was being embraced by a younger generation before our very ears and eyes. We were elated after the first act, only to be awed with each subsequent offering on the program.

LACC’s Concert Choir was last on the program. They sang two well-known pieces by J. S. Bach and Harold Arlen – composers who are important to Western music and are centuries apart, chronologically and stylistically. The ensemble of young voices brought new relevance to these old favorites – breathed fresh life into familiar tunes. The effect was infectious. Audience members were on our feet cheering after the last chord dissipated. The CEO and I excitedly expressed our delight with the show to one another, rubbed elbows one last time before I searched backstage for my son to drive him home on a school night. At that moment I was a mom filled with gratitude that my teenager was a part of something so inspiring. As a musician, I was awed that he had opportunities to expand and be a part of an art form that is larger than the individual.

Little did anyone know that night that this was the choir’s final performance of 2020. When Los Angeles first settled in to shelter in place, we thought we would be down for a month, tops. But a month in, LA’s numbers were still rising. Within weeks, news broke of a choir in Washington state that spread the virus to 60 percent of its members in one rehearsal. A month after that, in a webinar co-hosted by NATS, ACDA, Chorus America, Barbershop Harmony Society, and Performing Arts Medicine Association, participants heard scientists say that there was likely no safe way to hold traditional in-person choir rehearsals in the fall, or perhaps until a vaccine is developed. At about the same time, California’s Governor Gavin Newsom announced there would be no live performances until 2021, with no guarantees for the future.

Information was coming from all directions about how the act of choir singing was a “super spreader” event. Even small ensembles with one or two singers were cancelled. If you sang, you were out of work. In an age where social media amplifies our voices, singers were silenced.

By the end of May I watched as my network of singing colleagues grieved on social media about lost performances and opportunities to sing together. Not that anyone thought it was a good idea to keep working. The disease attacked the very thing singers rely on – our ability to control our breath. The irony that COVID-19 killed singing, the pandemic that attacked your lungs and left them with possible lifelong damage, was not lost on singers.

In rehearsal Mr. Fernando’s singers face each other for a sustained exercise on “ooo.” “Are you heavy or light?” he asks again. “Heavy,” comes from a few singers. “Let the sound pour outside you,” he tells them. What happens next takes my breath away. They produce a beautiful, homogenous sound, with gorgeous blend, and they keep the quality going to the bottom of the scale. For readers who are not singers, this is no easy feat.

“That was far better!”

This scene of positive rhetoric shaping young singers is gone now for many of those teenagers.

There are countless studies about how important music is to young, developing minds. Setting aside the years of practice it takes to master an instrument, music is a mental workout with just the melody, harmony, and rhythm. It is in the camp of performing arts that requires you to work both on your own and in a group. You are responsible for your artistry, but you must rely on the artistry of your colleagues to put together an intricate piece of music that requires multiple musicians to perform. You are both alone and part of a whole all at once. I honestly cannot think of a better metaphor for life.

When the shutdown began, I was one of thousands of musicians and performing arts organization board members in California caught off guard. By April, we knew our gigs through June were cancelled. By May, all performances of 2020 were cancelled. I read my daily email with a sinking heart as the news came in. I watched from the sidelines as arts organizations mobilized to put together grants for musicians who they knew would fall through the cracks of federal relief funds. As a board member of an arts organization, I was grateful for something to do. We fundraised to ensure we could pay our musicians in full for cancelled concerts.

I cannot imagine being a talented teenager with a calendar of life shaping opportunities unceremoniously cancelled. As adults, most of us can wait for a safe reopening. That’s not to say it’s not excruciating to watch gigs tick by unsung on your calendar. But, we are adults. We have already had the experiences that formed our dreams and desires. When I think of how brief a time you are a teenager, and how those years inform your being throughout your adulthood, I ache for the teenagers who are losing precious time to make music, theater, dance, film, animation, and more, together.

2020 was supposed to be a seminal year for LACC. In the full stride of his second year (after following the beloved Anne Tomlinson who led the choir for 28 years), Mr. Fernando had made his mark as an exciting new director the choristers loved and respected. He was also the driver who expanded the organization to open one more high-level choir – an SATB ensemble. A first for the organization.

Furthermore, plans were in place to take the Concert Choir on tour in Spain for two weeks in June. Add the radio show, a full performance schedule that included their spring concert, and engagements at the Hollywood Bowl and Skirball Center, 2020 was to be a year filled with extraordinary artistic experiences for their choristers.

Teaching music is an oral tradition, embedded in one-on-one instruction and passed down this way from one generation to another. Music teachers meet in person to teach, listen critically to the sounds their students make, dole out wisdom, guide discipline, and introduce young musicians to composers they would not come across on Spotify. Some musicians can trace their teacher genealogy back several hundred years.

That is not to say you cannot have music lessons online. You certainly can, but you miss a lot in the transfer of information over the internet, such as the tone of the instrument in a live space. Teachers now are listening less, and watching more. They look for physical tension in their Zoom sessions, and trust that if they can teach an economy of movement, the right sound will follow.

Regardless of how many technically exciting virtual choirs you might find on YouTube, you cannot lead an authentic chorus online. As one colleague put it on her social media account, “I don’t want to sit in front of a microphone singing just my part, and then lip-synching it into a video camera with a smile on my face. THIS IS NOT SINGING.”

Chorus is community. It’s coming together to become something bigger than yourself. It’s acoustic. It’s blending with your neighbor. Leading your section. Watching your conductor, and being artistically flexible to do what s/he asks you to do. It is a contract that anywhere from four to eighty people make – that they will come together and sing something simply for the beauty of it.

“It takes intense focus to sing this well,” Mr. Fernando tells his singers in rehearsal in February. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t have energy.” He’s letting them know he will not let them phone it in. To be in the choir takes more than a commitment to show up to rehearsal. They must engage while they are there. Without this dialogue, they would not be the phenomenal choir they are. Their sound would be more static, less alive. Their phrasing flat. Their pitch wobbly.

Sadly, there’s not a lot of engagement going on these days at LACC, which is to be expected. Choir has turned into an online musicianship course, with a weekly worksheet. There is no communing. No singing together. No blending. No counterpoint, or harmony. No being one with a large body that accomplishes great things.

Milestones are passing these kids by – graduations, proms, sweet 16 parties, driving school, and for some, an A-list summer of activities, such as a choir trip to Spain. These are the growth experiences that transcend school-learning for high school students. Clearly, COVID-19 is going to define this generation, but in what way? I watch as my teenager connects online – going inward at a time in his life when he needs to be guided outward. Opportunity to engage meaningfully is on hold indefinitely, which to teenagers who may be adults by the time the virus is no longer a threat, feels like an eternity.

“If you ask the finest singers about singing on the breath, they say it feels like the sound is outside you and you are doing nothing,” Mr. Fernando tells his singers. There’s a murmur in the room as Mr. Fernando pickups up his baton. Again, their attention focuses on him.

“Remember, on the breath.”

This piece first appeared in ECAMERONline, a pop-up project in which members of this community take turns telling stories, as did the original protagonists of Boccaccio’s Decameron, to pass the days while they were in flight from the plague in Trecento Florence.

Corey Carleton is a Baroque soprano with music degrees from University of California – Berkeley and Indiana University, who lives in Los Angeles with her husband and son. She has sung nationally and internationally, but primarily performs chamber music in Southern and Northern California with groups such as Tesserae Baroque, Corona del Mar Baroque Festival, and Les Violettes – ensembles that champion the music of the Italian Renaissance, Bach, Buxtehude, and the French Baroque. When Corey isn’t singing, she’s writing for small businesses and arts organizations. 

First a Voice, Then a Choir

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By Frank R. Lloyd

When I entered Occidental College in 1965 a friend from my hometown who was a year ahead of me urged me to take at least one semester of choir because the director was an extraordinary teacher and a dynamic personality. I took her advice and joined Occidental’s College and Chapel Choirs. Despite limited talent and no formal vocal training, I sang in Occidental’s choirs all four years I was there, and I have persisted in choral singing over the ensuing fifty years. Learning and performing choral works has allowed me to experience the emotional and physical thrills of blending into an ensemble whose output is greater than the sum of its individual parts. It has immersed me in caring communities, the world’s best music, and inspiring messages. Looking ahead, losing myself in the ensemble connects me to something greater which foreshadows a life to come.

I brought no choral singing experience to Occidental’s choirs. My knowledge of how to read music was acquired during one year of piano lessons in third grade my mother mandated. I could carry a tune, though, and in high school I learned to play the guitar as part of the 1960s folk music boom. My maternal grandfather, a long-time church choir singer himself, taught me the basics.

I joined Occidental’s bass section because it was easiest for me to read the bottom line of notes to find my part. Being tall, I took a place at the end of the top row. I was immediately confronted by music for classical choral anthems—Mozart, Brahms, Handel—as well as spirituals and other traditional anthems. More alarming, I received the full score for a major work to prepare for the annual spring concert: Bach’s B Minor Mass. I had jumped into the deep end!

Nevertheless, I quickly experienced the thrill of losing my voice in an ensemble that created something beautiful. This was—and is still—a visceral experience in my face and chest. I am in a place where time stands still and my current surroundings disappear. It is a specific emotional place–joy, discouragement, sorrow, triumph, hope–strong enough to make my throat catch or my eyes tear up. I do not feel this at all times, only when I know the music well enough to get past the notes and technical requirements of a passage. However, from the beginning I experienced this sensation just often enough to keep going.

For the past twenty-five years I have sung in choirs at two churches. While both pursued missions of caring, music quality, and communication, each grew my appreciation for one of these as directors changed.

The first was a culture of caring for one another. Relationships deepened through projects and social events, especially “Broadway” musicals. The scripts were written by one of the choir members. The scenery, costumes, and make-up were self-made. We were taught to sing and dance in ensembles that showcased individual members and small groups such as a doo-wop men’s quartet. The stories were stitched together with a pastiche of show tunes. The preparation and performances developed interpersonal relationships and created a community outside the choir room.

The other, where I continue to sing, was musically demanding at first. We prepared two anthems per week for worship and four for communion, ten per month. Anthems included hymn and spiritual arrangements and original compositions by renowned contemporary composers along with classical pieces. We performed major works with professional symphony musicians. The high level was a difficult challenge for me and required diligent attendance and outside study. Under a new director the choir emphasizes music that conveys a powerful message to change lives. I find joy in the missions of community, quality, and communication as well as the higher joy in losing myself in the ensemble and its music.

Now retired, I ponder death and the afterlife. Some believe that we are like raindrops. When we die, we fall into an ocean. The drop does not go away; it is embraced by the whole. Similarly, the air we breathe and expel as singing becomes air at death. If first there is a drop then an ocean, and if first there is breath then air, I am comforted that death could be like losing oneself within a beautiful ensemble. First there is a voice, then a choir. Like John Wesley, I am comforted to think that “I am a creature of a day, passing through life as an arrow through the air. I am a spirit come from God and returning to God; just hovering over the great gulf, till a few moments hence I am no more seen—I drop into an unchangeable eternity!” Choral singing suggests that the ensemble into which we are absorbed is a spiritually connected community much like an aspen grove is a single organism connected underground. I am drawn into this spiritual connection just as a voice is absorbed into the sound and community of a choir.

Frank Lloyd is the retired Associate Dean for Executive Education at Southern Methodist University’s Cox School of Business.  He is a Bass II in Highland Park United Methodist Church’s (Dallas) Chancel Choir.  Formerly, he was vice president at the Thunderbird School of Global Management and a human resources executive for General Motors.  He and his fellow chorister wife, Barbara, live in Dallas, Texas.

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