RSCM Report: Followers of the Lamb

Tuesday, July 21

O brethren, ain't you happy,
O brethren, ain't you happy,
O brethren, ain't you happy,
Ye followers of the Lamb
(from a Shaker song, which we sang at the Course)

For years, I have attempted to teach choirs the Three Basics, a concept which I learned at an RSCM Course years ago:

Posture
Space (or "Inside Smile" as Mr. Walker puts it)
Breath (Mr. Walker's short-hand reminder: "Ribs")

Mr. Walker teaches this, using the slightly different terms noted above. Posture is obvious, and essential for a singer (and, like the others, beneficial to health more generally). Space is primarily space for the sound to develop, mostly by means of proper alignment of the larynx and soft palate; said alignment is easily created by the Yawn-Sigh (which places the larynx) and the sensation of an "inward smile," which raises the soft palate. Mr. Walker's method of teaching good breathing was new to me; by the image of hands on the lower ribs and spreading the fingers with inhalation -- then keeping the "spread" ribs as one exhales and sings -- the singer gains a sense of erect ribcage during exhalation and no involvement of the shoulders whatsoever in breathing. For a quick reminder he would often say "Ribs" as we inhaled just before starting a phrase.

He adds a fourth Basic, which I intend to use: Attitude.

Back at the Choir College, Dr. Flummerfelt described it as Connection, and I will probably use that word, though Attitude needs less explanation. When singing, are you connected to the text and musical line with all of your being? Or are you going through the motions? It might be possible for instrumentalists to sometimes get away with the latter, but the voice is so thoroughly a window into the soul that it is immediately obvious if the singers are not Connected -- and, if the other basics are in place and the group has done its homework, Connection makes it possible for the song to touch the hearts of the listeners. This will never happen if the hearts of the singers are not likewise touched by the Song and absolutely committed to it.

Following the afternoon rehearsal, the choristers played kickball and the adult directors gathered to share ideas. These sessions are part of every Course and I always learn from them. From today's work (and from Mr. Walker's work throughout the week) I carry a renewed determination to teach the choirs to Read Music, which is mostly sight-singing (or at least singing correctly at "second sight" as some of the old Chorister Training materials put it, a phrase that I think came from Martin How). Mr. Walker described the reading of vocal music as "reading two languages at once" -- the musical notation, and the words, with the eyes going up and down between the two even as they go left to right across the page. It is very difficult for some, and it is not easy for anyone. He did not take it this far, but the up-and-down and sideways motion is a part of the challenge of score reading. For something written for large orchestra with chorus, the whole page might be one system, with winds on top, brass, strings, voices, perhaps a continuo line under that. The conductor must scan up and down while her eyes go across the page -- which might be at high speed in an allegro or presto -- and account for transposing instruments and C-clefs. It is not a skill which I possess to any high degree, and not something that is learned overnight.

From the week, I hope to carry home a commitment to a higher standard of work. But I know that I come home every year from RSCM with such ideas, and the choir ultimately beats me down, especially the adults. I can tell them to sit tall, and some of them will look at me and not move a muscle. And eventually I give up and accept their standard. The best I can hope is that over a lifetime of work, I might move them along a little bit, and if I consider my fifteen years in my current position, I think that there has possibly been some slight progress. Maybe.

And for the young people, I can bring some of them here.

Years ago, a young husband and wife sang in our adult choir back in the parish. Their two preschool children -- one of them hardly past infancy -- would sit in the rehearsals or play in the back of the choir room. One of them would sometimes sit on the floor at the tail of the rehearsal (grand) piano where I was directing from the keyboard; she would "direct" the choir to the delight of all present. At least sometimes, they would process with us into evensong, the younger in her father's arms, the older holding her mother's hand.

But they moved to another state. One of the things that distressed me, and continued to grieve me in the succeeding years, was that these girls -- the two sisters joined by a third, for whom I stood as a godparent -- would never sing in our Youth Choir, or come to an RSCM Course.

And now, they are here. The three girls and their mother are at this year's Course. Tonight at Vespers, I was able to watch the eldest, who is singing beside one of the strongest high school trebles. She and her sister have been in our Youth Choir this year. The youngest, still too young to participate officially in the Course or even our Youth Choir (she joins this fall), was on this night with the trebles, out on the far end of the Cantoris front row beside C., singing her first RSCM evening service.

I did not think that I would ever see this.