Holy Week: Choir Day

Last evening was my final dinner with Mrs. C. until Easter Monday. Like as not, we will hardly see one another in waking hours for the rest of this week. We had a frugal and thoroughly delightful supper: macaroni and cheese from a box, leftover pinto beans, frozen peas.

One of the ways in which I love this woman is for her thriftiness. A chance remark at staff meeting yesterday reminded me that not all women are this way; many of them who are otherwise fine people live for Shopping – their credit cards at the limit, their closets bulging with new clothes, expectations of constant diversion and fun, most of it expensive. Mrs. C. has never been that way.

Men are guilty, too; I know men who have to have a brand-new Big Truck every two or three years, who have many thousands of dollars worth of Guns and Ammo, and the latest super-large screen TV in their den so they can watch sports and action movies. And the latest and fastest computers and iGadgets so they can play games and do Cool Stuff.

Last night was also the final time for a good night's sleep; I was in bed by 7 pm. But I did not sleep; I lay awake, worrying about the loose ends from yesterday and the rest of Holy Week, and most of all about tonight's choral rehearsals.

For today is mostly about the choirs. I began with about an hour of Setting Things Up for tonight – the choir room for the youth rehearsal, the upstairs for the adults. We have an instrumental ensemble of nine persons (ten, counting Jean L. at the organ); they need chairs, and every music stand that the church has.

The rest of the morning was on the Bench, much of it (again) with the Pièce d'Orgue, bringing it to a good level where I can now lay it aside until Saturday.

Years ago, my piano teacher Mr. Fishbaugh chided me when I contemplated repeating a Schubert sonata that I had played two years before. “You must not do that! You must always be learning new things, not replaying the old.” That was excellent advice for a callow youth of twenty-three years. But now, almost forty years later? I played the Pièce last year at the Vigil, and it was such a perfect fit to the occasion that I am repeating it, and may continue to play it in all of the years that remain to me. There are a few other compositions – all by Bach – that have earned their place on particular Sundays and Feasts – the “St. Anne” prelude and fugue at funerals and on Trinity Sunday, the “Komm, heiliger Geist” settings from the Clavierübung on the Day of Pentecost, the C major “9/8” prelude and fugue on the Sunday after the Ascension, “Christ unser Herr zum Jordan kam” on the Baptism of Christ. I do believe that the Pièce d'Orgue has found a place at their side.

That work sufficiently done – enough for today, at any rate, for tomorrow's prelude, the “Institution of the Eucharist” from Messiaen's Livre du Saint-Sacrement, needs a lot of work, but hopefully not more than I can squeeze in – I spent the afternoon in score study and rehearsal preparation. I am nervous about having a Good Rehearsal with the instruments, for I do so little work with such ensembles or with reading from a Real Conductor's Score (oversized, with lots of parts to track, and in this case a lot of mixed meter). The piece: a setting of the Te Deum by John Rutter.

Years ago (again I say that, the language of an Old Man) I learned to deal with such a score from an article in Choral Journal by Margaret Hillis, the magnificent conductor of the Chicago Symphony Chorus in those days. I have marked the score by her system, especially the meter and tempo changes and cues. This helps a novice like me keep track of what is important. But I must put these skills to work tonight. The last time I worked with instrumentalists, the concertmaster (a fine high-school player) found it necessary to publicly chide me for my inability to keep a steady tempo, the most basic responsibility of a conductor. Tonight, I must do better.

Also, I worry about the multitude of bits-and-pieces for the liturgies of the Three Days, and getting the choir comfortable with them. There are two unaccompanied pieces that remains touch-and-go and will need lots of time tonight. And there is the Psalmody, mostly for the Great Vigil. We did not sing these things very well last year, largely because I neglected them in rehearsals. I have not neglected them this year, but it takes a good half-hour to simply sing through all of them. We cannot afford that much time on them tonight.

And finally, I must not neglect the Youth Choir. They have their normal afternoon rehearsal, and most of them could care less about Holy Week. Almost none of the children attend any of the liturgies (except for Easter Day). I cannot let the week go by without trying to teach them a little. Last week we had a good lesson about the Annunciation, and noted on BCP p. 17 that the Day is exempt from Lenten disciplines. This week, I hope to take them through the Proper Liturgies for Special Days (BCP p. 274 and following), looking for what I have taught them are the “Dearly Beloved” statements, which (in many Prayerbook liturgies) describe the reason for the liturgy. There is an especially fine one at the beginning of the Great Vigil:

Dear friends in Christ: On this most holy night, in which our Lord Jesus passed over from death to life,the Church invites her members, dispersed throughout the world, to gather in vigil and prayer. For this is the Passover of the Lord, in which, by hearing his Word and celebrating his Sacraments, we share in his victory over death. (BCP p. 285)

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday morning lack such an explicit statement – partly because they are all in essence part of one Liturgy, spread over the Three Days, and await the above statement to fully disclose their meaning. But much can be discerned from the Collects with which these services all begin (BCP p. 274, 276, 283).

However, I cannot do very much of this. The old conductor's saying “Sing, don't talk” applies with emphasis to youth and children's rehearsals. Their patience with a lot of BCP work and lecturing from me is very short. We must mostly sing – and not just for reasons of attention span; we have a lot of musical work to do. They must get a handle on all fifty verses of Psalm 18 in Anglican Chant, and much else, for choral evensong in May. There is far too much to squeeze into this day's rehearsal – so, again, I worry. Can I lead them in a good and productive rehearsal?

[To be continued]