RSCM Report, Part Three: The Young and the Old

At any RSCM course there are several social strata, which are most clearly visible at mealtimes. At this course, there were four: the children, the young-and-mid teenagers, the older-teens-and-folks-in-their-twenties, and the old people (like me).

In front of me during the full rehearsals were two little girls, Bryn and Lauren. Both were irrepressible, with answers for every question, including quite a few that had not been asked. They were terrific. Across the way in Decani were Tom and Killian, whom I had the privilege of driving around St. Louis when we went offsite to the Basilica and the Science Center. They made me feel young again with their boundless energy, jokes, and non-stop chatter. There were many others, including not only the outgoing ones I have described, but the quiet ones who said little, but saw and experienced much. In a sense, the whole Course is for these children. It is for the moment when they hear That Sound for the first time in rehearsals, the sound I vainly tried to describe a few days ago. It is for the confidence they gain when they realize that they can do the job, as overwhelming as it always seems at first; they can hold their own with the teens and adults and be part of a top-notch choir. It is for the moment when they walk into the Cathedral Basilica for the first time and look up at the mosaics (Here are more photos, over a hundred of them).

And it is for the moment when they sing in that space, which is even better acoustically than it is visually.

Mr. Lole did a fine thing to begin our rehearsal in the Basilica: he started with the Stanley Vann treble anthem, and before he began that, he had the trebles sing a simple three-note arpeggio, stop, and listen. Above the voices of the tour guides, they (and we) could hear the three notes blending into a triad out in the room, going on and on in the vast space. Young or old, one can hardly remain unmoved by such as this.

At the other extreme, there are the Old People. This includes me, Mr. B., Brother Vincent, Miz Deb, Debra, and others. It has included for several years Eric and Judith from our parish. Others come and go, including the Music Directors and Organists. Mr. Simon Lole, our director this year, was personable and a distinct pleasure to be with at table and in conversation, besides his consummate skill in his musical duties and exquisite sense of fun. I am very glad that our young singers had the opportunity to work with him for a week; I hope he returns someday.

I asked this question the other day: what I can offer to support such choristers as we had at the Course? They sing with beauty, accuracy, and spirit; I miss notes, sing flat or sharp, crackle like an old witch on low notes, and for all I try, I can in no wise match the spirit of these young singers.

What can I offer? What can we Old People offer?

For one thing, Judith, Miz Deb, and I were the Cantoris Altos. Eric was one-third of the Decani Tenor section through the week. Debra is always a mainstay of the Decani Altos. Tom O., a friend from the old Belmont Abbey courses for boys and men back in the '90's, was a strong lead in the Decani Bass. Our presence serves as a foundation on which the younger choirmen can build to provide tenor and bass lines. As I said the other day, they are increasingly able to do this without us, but I think that our presence is still of use musically. Combined with us altos, the tenors and basses make it possible for the choir to sing four-part music. Crucially, it creates a context in which young men can grow from trebles into adult tenors and basses (and, Lord willing, an occasional alto). Without something like the RSCM Course, most of these young men would drift off, out of the choir and very often out of the church. By making the Course possible, we give them reason to stay around, and that is no small thing.

We show by example that it is possible for an Old Person to keep singing. This, I think, is most important to the girls. I have often wondered what happens to all of these confident, intelligent choir girls. Once they are adults, why are they not singing in parish choirs?
-- they get jobs that have limited (or no) time off on Sundays or choir nights, or keep them on the road for weeks at a time.
-- they get married, or otherwise committed into a long-term relationship. Their spouse or partner takes a dim view of them heading off for a week to an RSCM course, or going out for choir rehearsal instead of staying home, fixing dinner, and doing laundry.
-- they have babies. This irrevocably transforms life, and often allows little or no space for participation in a parish choir, especially if they are trying to work a job or continue schooling while raising children.
-- if they do venture into a parish choir, they are usually the only Young Person around, and the choir might well be singing at a very low standard and torn by interpersonal conflict. There is, at first blush, little enjoyment in this and little reason to make sacrifices to continue.

Babies grow up. Jobs come and go, and may eventually allow space for choral singing. Sometimes spouses and partners come and go. Because these girls (the guys, too) have the foundation of choral singing, they can always come back -- even once they become Old People like us. Perhaps they, like Eric and others, might bring their children to an RSCM Course and stay to sing with them. We have demonstrated how it is done, and we will welcome them with open arms. Hopefully, we can show them by example that one must keep on singing, no matter what, even after the years pile on and we no longer sing as we once could. If the standard is low, make it better. If there is conflict, "blessed are the peacemakers." And if one perseveres with most adult parish choirs, one eventually discovers the same special bonds of fellowship as are evident at the RSCM Courses; one discovers Family in a way that is hard to find anywhere else. Hopefully, we Old People are planting these seeds among the young folk with whom we sing at the Course.

A word must be said about the core group of adults of the St. Louis Course, whom I have mentioned: Mr. B., Br. V., Miz Deb, and Debra -- and, I suppose, me. Increasingly, Weezer and Lindsey must be counted in this group, for they are taking up much of the behind-the-scenes work that used to fall to Mr. B. There are sometimes thorny problems that arise, problems that threaten to undo the Course. Finances are high on the list; Mr. B. has been forced to be creative to keep the course fees affordable in the face of repeated cost increases on the part of Todd Hall and declining enrollments compared to, say, five or six years ago. Brother Vincent is much involved on the national level of RSCM America in keeping the whole array of Courses going along. Miz Deb and Debra have been with the Course from its beginnings; through thick and thin, they do their parts to keep the Course strong. Mr. B., Debra and I, and others, work all year to train choristers and make it possible for them to come to the Course. We often scrounge for scholarship money. We beg and cajole. We speak up for the RSCM at budget time, and to our clergy. Again, these are no small things.

Yes, we Old People are part of the choir. It is our duty, in many cases; it is also, and most distinctly, our delight. Most of us would say that it is the high point of the year.