Today, the Eve of Pentecost, was our Three (Youth) Choirs' Day. Make that two; the cathedral choir backed out a couple of days ago, when their director came down with the flu, and for various reasons many of her choristers who had indicated interest backed out. So, we had Two Choirs. Or parts of them. Our choir has fifteen singers; about half of them had other things to do and skipped out. The visiting choir sent three singers; they have quite a few more than that. Their director was unable to attend; his wife started having labor contractions, and they decided that they should stay close to home. But he found a choir mother and a grandmother to transport the young folk.
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Part of what gets me through the year is the annual RSCM Course in St. Louis. For those who are new to these pages, here is my report on last year's course:
Part I
Part II
Part III
Each year when I come to the first rehearsal of the Course and hear "that sound" -- the sound of those trebles, some of them from our own choir -- I am always overcome with emotion. "This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven" (Gen. 28:17). By the end of the week, it is even better, and almost impossible to return home. I want to sing with these people, and sing such music, forever.
One of the principal reasons for our Three (or Two) Choirs' Day is that most of our choristers will never hear or participate in "that sound," not in this life. They are disinterested, or too busy with other things, to attend an RSCM course, and we rarely achieve it in our regular rehearsals and services. And probably none of the singers from today's guest choir will ever go. But they can come to the Choir Day and have something of a taste of it.
Today's work was a mixed bag. We had some interpersonal issues, and there was a steady stream of lost items every time we moved from one room to another. "I forgot my folder upstairs. Can I go get it?" "I lost my phone. I have to find it." Memorably, one chorister lost his folder for about the third time in the day. He went looking for it, and we sent two others to look for him after a while. They returned after what must have been twenty minutes, without folder -- because it was sitting on the snack table in the choir room, where (of course) he had laid it.
Add to that a steady stream of people getting drinks and going to the bathroom, and I thought at times that we would never get anything done. But we did. There were a few moments in rehearsal when we had "that sound," just like at the RSCM courses. It was so foreign to the visiting choir that one girl complained that it hurt her ears. I said "Excellent!!! That means we are doing it right. We are singing with a good solid Ring to our tone." She appeared to think I was insane.
The choristers from the two choirs had, on the whole, a good time in recreation, and seemed to connect with one another between the two choirs. We had plenty of good food, almost too much of it, from homemade cinnamon rolls for morning break to an excellent lunch to chocolate oat bars (homemade again) for afternoon break.
I mentioned the young man who repeatedly lost his folder. He was in over his head a bit with the day; he has a good voice and a love of music, and I hope he continues to sing and play the piano. I am glad he was with us. There was a time when I was suggesting to him that he open his hymnal to sing the Responses rather than looking off into space. I said that unless he does Morning and Evening Prayer every day, he probably does not know all of the words. "But I do," he said, appearing to find it incredible that there might be people somewhere who don't say Morning and Evening Prayer every day. I smiled and said "I do, too," and we exchanged high fives.
When the service arrived, he was unable to get through it. He came to me and complained about the heat (it was 76 degrees; I checked after the service) and went to sit with his grandmother. That was fine; he was with us for the day, and participated as fully as he was able. May God bless him along his way.
Many of the choristers (and the adults who assisted) gave up much to be with us on a fine and sunny spring Saturday. I am glad that they did.
We were frazzled by the end, and I wondered how the service would go. I don't believe either I or they could have done it without the musical prelude; it gave enough space to settle down. I improvised on the tune "Bridegroom," along with the head motive of our Anthem. The afternoon sun shone through the windows, lighting the red streamers which had been hung in the church that afternoon for Pentecost, complete with origami paper doves. As instructed, each chorister pulled the rope for the church bell; some of them had been asking all day to ring the bell, and now was the time. Now we could tell the neighborhood that it was time for church. The bell rang as the improvisation continued; the choristers processed in, resplendent in their vestments, and we sang the service. It was good.
"Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ." (I Peter 2:5)
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The organ had Issues; it was ciphering on me during the Hymn. This is unrelated to our recent adventures with water damage; rather, it dates from spending too many months in a storage building. Some of the pallets are "sticky," and don't fully close when the notes are released. They close when you jiggle the note a few times, but one cannot readily do that in the middle of a hymn. It has done this in practice a number of times since its reinstallation in February, less frequently as time has passed, but tonight was the first time it has done it in a service. We have the same hymn tomorrow; I hope it is better-behaved.
There are other issues that must be addressed this summer, mostly having to do with regulation of the pedal action. "This summer" is now only eight days away: the Day of Pentecost tomorrow, and Trinity Sunday a week away. We have stumbled to the finish line of another season.
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