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Old Ballet Dancer

Choral Potpourri/Choral Ethics: Why I’m a ChoralNet Blogger

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“The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.” Robert Frost

I became a regular ChoralNet Blogger in the fall of 2015. The year before, I had been asked to contribute an occasional guest blog for ChoralNet, the first time a week after my mother’s death. In fact, I was asked to write guest blogs two days after her funeral. That first one was tough to write, but then I realized, this was something Mom would have wanted me to do, so I plowed through and did it. In all, I contributed about 10-15 guest blogs about something I called “Choral Ethics.” It was at that point I began my “Choral Ethics Project.”

Why was I initially asked to guest blog? Because I had responded to a number of ChoralNet posts about snark, about “choral directors behaving badly,” about stupid, silly behaviors, about nastiness and backstabbing and I said what I believed. At the time, NO ONE responded the way I did, the way YOUR OWN MOTHER (or mentor) would have responded, and I became impatient because it seemed so simple. My responses weren’t especially insightful or complicated; don’t be a jerk, you don’t have to put up with others who behave like jerks, make nice, give people credit when they deserve it and always say “thank you.” And I tried to affirm the feelings of those who wondered if they were making too much over something (most often, they weren’t) or would try to suggest ways to make it better. The person in charge of blogs at the time thought my views would make a good guest blog, then asked me to become a regular blogger. The rest is history.

When I did become a regular blogger, I chose “Choral Potpourri” as the title of my blog because I didn’t want to be locked into only writing about Choral Ethics, though most of my blogs DO seem to be about it. When I am asked what my blog is really about, I explain I’m the “Miss Manners” (maybe “Dear Abby”) of the Choral World.  I answer ChoralNetters queries (you can always email me with your issues: ). I blog about organization (NOT organizations), I blog about inspiration, I blog about all sorts of choral life situations and I try to be true to myself and my own background. It is that background that has been most helpful in writing this blog.

Both of my parents were in the performing arts. My late Mom was an opera singer, and my Dad (very much alive and with it at 93) was a ballet dancer and was the vaudeville partner of Bob Fosse (yep, THAT Bob Fosse). Dad taught tap, ballet and character ballet and was a master teacher, founding a dance teacher’s organization which had him touring around the country most summers. Mom always said, “the music (or dance) is the easy part, it’s everything else that’s hard.” In fact, listening to Mom and Dad talk about their organization and helping out with office work as a teenager gave me a certain perspective–just exchange the artistic genre, it’s all the same. Performing artists (singers, dancers, actors) are people, like everyone else, despite their talent and sometimes, they need to be reminded of it.

I am a ChoralNet blogger because I believe my perspective of our profession is unique and I have something to contribute no one else can. The other regular ChoralNet Bloggers ALSO have unique perspectives and bring ideas and experiences to our Choral Feast which enrich us all and am a regular reader of their blogs. I enjoy Amanda Bumgarner’s reviews of ACDA Publications with the occasional “From Our Readers” post. Mona Wis, with The Conductor as Yogi, brings a view I had never thought about before and am glad she blogs for ChoralNet. I conduct a mixed group at this point in my career, but I’ve been thrilled to learn about new treble repertoire from Shelbie Wahl-Fouts. I learn something new every week from Chris Munce’s Choralosophy—and I follow him on Twitter, too.

Do you have a unique perspective on our Choral Art? Would you like to contribute a blog for ChoralNet, either occasionally or regularly? If you are interested in being a ChoralNet Blogger, even for a short period of time, contact Sundra Flansburg () with your interest. ChoralNet is a wonderful place to blog, and I feel honored to be able to do so every week!

Until next week, be well and be safe!

I am taking my Choral Ethics Blogs to my chamber choir’s Facebook page for the foreseeable future. Please join me there this morning! https://www.facebook.com/themidwestmotetsociety/

Choral Potpourri/Choral Ethics: Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Dance Class

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Charles Grass, Peter Genaro and Marie Grass Amenta

“My dance classes were open to anybody, my only stipulation was that they had to come to the class every day.” Merce Cunningham

Last week, I blogged about my early training as a dancer; what it meant to me, how it has shaped and led me to the choral profession. My ballet-life and my choral-life often overlapped; I taught ballet and choreographed a couple of shows to get through music school. And in grad school, I choreographed more shows. It always seemed when I needed money, a dance job suddenly appeared and since I was so well trained, it was easy.

This week, I am blogging about what I have brought from the ballet studio to the choral rehearsal. Just as in my own ballet-life/choral-life, there is plenty of overlap.

I am organized and ready for any contingency.

As a dancer, my dance bag had to hold anything I might need. There were tights and leotards and shoes galore but also other things you might be surprised about. There was always another sports bra and bandages—liquid, adhesive and ace—as well as Ben Gay ointment, sweaters, a tee-shirt, at least one character skirt, leg warmers, along with a towel and something to read. After an especially “fragrant” incident as a 14 year old, I changed out my dance clothes for clean ones every day. Tap dancers have itty-bitty screwdrivers in their bags and ballet dancers have soft ballet, character and pointe shoes and their own rosin. I am ready for anything because “anything” has already happened to me. These days, I always have AT LEAST two extra sets of complete folders for every rehearsal and every concert in my conducting bag and I bring my own music stand, if only to leave in my car.

I am able to take criticism in rehearsal and not take it personally.

When I started studying dance as a child, it was a shock the first time I was singled out and corrected. My first teacher, Ruth Ann Koesun, corrected so kindly but it still stung. At first, my feelings were hurt and I was confused but continued anyway because I loved dance. Gradually, I understood the need for correction; I had to understand what I needed to do to improve. My classmates who did NOT understand, dropped out but I persevered. Of course, there were teachers and directors I worked with after Ruth Ann who did NOT always correct kindly. I used them as a sort of lesson of what NOT to do. I believe kind and constructive criticisms, not belittling or smug, produce better choirs.

The structure of dance class and rehearsal prepared me for life.

Every dance class and rehearsal, no matter the genre, begins with preparation for what’s to come. First things first; no one understands that better than a dancer. Stretches begin classes to get physically ready. Classes or rehearsals are eased into; no one suddenly grand jetés across the room or injuries could result.

Barre and floor work isolates steps into manageable portions. It is much easier to perfect combinations when you understand the mechanics of the components. Beginning demi-plies may seem boring but their continued practice and perfecting is important for much of the rest of what a dancer does. I’ve learned sometimes the most boring is often the most important. Being able to break things down to the lowest common denominator is a skill many people don’t appreciate and it’s just as important to musicians as it is to dancers.

In dance class, Center is the place to work out problems in combinations and routines. Being able to be flexible (and not only in the physical sense), changing what needs to be changed and being tenacious until we “get it” becomes second nature to dancers. An idea a teacher or choreographer thought would work, does not, but something simple like a new order of steps or starting with the other foot makes a world of difference. It takes a certain type of attractive humility to be willing to change. I’ve seen many a respected dance pedagogue turn on a dime if need be. I’ve learned to be willing to try something new or different or to start over and am not afraid to do so.

There is a sense of accomplishment while working on a dance routine and perfecting it, much like learning a piece of music. It’s a feeling we might not be able to describe but know it when we feel it; preparation leads to artistry, no matter the art form.

In the end, I am not afraid to thank folks and show my gratitude.

The tradition of révérence at the end of ballet class is not only beautiful but gives opportunity to show gratitude. Many dance teachers also participate in révérence to demonstrate their own gratefulness to students and accompanist. And all clap at the end. A sense of gratitude and thankfulness for those you work with is always a good thing to cultivate, no matter where or what genre. I’ve tried to make this tradition my own by thanking my singers and accompanist at the end of all my rehearsals.

Because I was a dancer, I am prepared for anything and persevere no matter what. I start at the beginning, break things down and try new and different things with no regrets. And at the end, I thank people.

Next week, I’ll be blogging about an old-fashioned hymn that has new meaning to me in these Pandemic times, especially after this week’s Webinar of our choral leaders.

Thank YOU and be well!

I am taking my Choral Ethics Blogs to my chamber choir’s Facebook page for the foreseeable future. Please join me there this morning!

https://www.facebook.com/themidwestmotetsociety/?ref=bookmarks

Choral Potpourri/Choral Ethics: Remembering Who I Am

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Charles Grass, Peter Genaro and Marie Grass Amenta

“God creates, I do not create. I assemble and I steal everywhere to do it – from what I see, from what the dancers can do, from what others do.” George Balanchine

I follow many composers, musicians, performers and many other artist types on Social Media. Before COVID-19, I did so to keep up with what was happening in many different genres which might inform my own work. Now I purposefully take a look at those artists’ pages to take a break and get some mental relief from the news. Many artists are commenting on Pandemic news, of course, but many reflect on their work, lives and who and why they are who they are.

Our Governor here in Illinois recently extended his “shelter-in-place” order, and I’ve been reflecting on my own life, my own journey to being a choral conductor. It was not as straight a line as many of your journeys but is a big part of who I am. For the next two weeks, I’ll be blogging about my early artistic background and how it has influenced my Choral Ethics outlook on our profession.

I was never meant to be a choral conductor; please note—a choral conductor–and not director. I wanted to become a ballet conductor after my dancing days were done because, dear Readers, I was a DANCER. I come from Chicago Dance Royalty–my Dad was Bob Fosse’s vaudeville partner and a respected ballet dancer, choreographer and pedagogue in his own right—and I studied with the best teachers in the Midwest. There was a real chance for me of dancing with the Joffrey after high school, if I had not injured my ankle.

I loved choral music but it was not my “be all/end all.” From the time I was about 6 or 7, I sang in a church’s children’s choir. Our Mom was one of the paid ringers in their adult choir, so when the choir director decided to start a children’s group, Sissy and I were recruited. Sissy sang soprano because she was so young and I sang alto because I could read. Both of us could hold our own parts at that young age, we didn’t think it was impressive, but apparently it was.

Sissy and I sang duets for various events at the church, in addition to choir, and both of us studied piano with the choir accompanist. We also studied Tap with Dad’s friend and business partner, Benny Smith, but Sissy wasn’t good at it and I didn’t like it.

Sissy, Uncle Benny Smith and Marie Grass Amenta

Sissy decided she wanted to take guitar lessons but I wasn’t interested, I wanted to study ballet. Weeks during our childhoods ended with choir practice and piano lessons on Fridays, with my ballet lessons Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays and Sissy’s guitar lesson on Wednesdays.

Dad had strong opinions on ballet study as you might imagine, since he was a ballet dancer and opera stage director (my parents met during a production of “Bohemian Girl,” with Mom the Diva and Dad the stage director). Dad felt girls shouldn’t begin pointe work until they were 12. I didn’t care about pointe, I just wanted to dance! So when I was about 11 or so, I began lessons with two of Dad’s friends, John Kriza and Ruth Ann Koesun. Johnny and Ruth Ann were former American Ballet Theater dancers (Johnny was in the original “Billy the Kid” and “Rodeo”) and taught ballet for Hull House in Chicago. I didn’t know at the time, but studying with them was a sort of try-out for me; if I did well, I would go on to study with all of their teachers, Walter Camryn and Bentley Stone.

I loved Ruth Ann and Johnny and began to feel like myself in their classes. Instead of an awkward pre-adolescent girl, I began to feel good in my own skin. When I got to Stone-Camryn, I began to feel I BELONGED somewhere. I forgot to feel ugly and not popular because during class, I was part of something greater.

I started high school at the age of 13, and began my ballet classes at Stone-Camryn School of Ballet around the same time. I took lessons five days a week, studying not only classical ballet but character ballet. On Fridays, since I was too old for the children’s choir, I took a character class and then a ballet class for professionals. Those Friday night classes included Dad as one of my classmates—it was fun and strange to be in class with him!

Soon after I began ballet classes, I noticed something; Dad wasn’t dancing as much as he used to. I had recently helped him with a production of “Die Fledermaus” and was fascinated with the music direction. Before class, while waiting at the bottom of the long stairway leading up to the Studio, I mentioned to Mr. Camryn I knew what I wanted to do when I could no longer dance—I wanted to be a ballet conductor. He smiled and patted my arm and told me not to be silly; girls don’t conduct orchestras! I mentioned a famous woman conductor—Sarah Caldwell—and he told me I didn’t want to be like her but I could probably conduct choirs. And so I do.

I loved both Mr. Stone and Mr. Camryn but Mr. Camryn saw something different in me. He SAW ME for me, not my Father’s Daughter, but ME. He called me Zazu Pitts, teasing me and so I “mugged” for him. He laughed and corrected and cajoled me. Many times, his criticisms stung but still I persevered.

I come to you today, remembering how it felt to be called Zazu Pitts in the middle of a ballet class. And when I feel like that awkward fifteen year old, I just remember who I am and who believed in me and carry on.

Next week, I’ll talk about what I’ve brought from the Barre to the choral rehearsal hall. Until then, be well.

I am taking my Choral Ethics Blogs to my chamber choir’s Facebook page for the foreseeable future. Please join me there this morning!

https://www.facebook.com/themidwestmotetsociety/

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