RSCM Report: Him let all your music honor

Sing, ye faithful, sing with gladness,
wake your noblest, sweetest strain,
with the praises of your Savior
let his house resound again;
Him let all your music honor,
and your songs exalt his reign
(John Ellerton, 1870)

Part Two: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday

Bruce Neswick is the music director for the week. He is one of the leading church musicians in the U.S. and, I suppose, the world. Among the work he has done: founding the Girls’ Choir at the Washington National Cathedral in the late 1990’s, serving with distinction as cathedral organist at Buffalo, Lexington (Kentucky), Atlanta, St. John the Divine in NYC, and now Trinity Cathedral, Portland. He and I are of similar age, and (as I learned) both of us vegetarians, having become so upon reading “Diet for a Small Planet” while college students in the 1970’s.

His work with the choir is in the grand Cathedral Tradition, what I often consider the “big leagues” of choral music – the choirs of men and boys (and, thanks in part to Bruce, girls) who rehearse daily and sing evensong several times a week. They work hard and intensively, and at their best, the young people in such choirs make some of the finest music in the world.

I know “educators” who would say that it is asking too much to expect children or teens to stay focused for anything beyond five minutes, much less an hour or more at a time through a challenging rehearsal. And that is what we had – plenty of fun and light-hearted humor (for which Mr. Neswick is a master), but steady, serious, detailed work. I am a professional musician, and I have been doing this sort of thing for a long time – and there was one morning when I was near panic, thinking “I can’t do this.” He was asking a level of perfection that seemed beyond me – and, by staying with it, I attained it, doing some things vocally that surpassed anything I had done before. I became a better musician this week.

And there were little fourth-graders at their first Course, doing the same thing. No one told them that they couldn’t be this good, that they couldn’t do serious and important work at the same level as adult professionals.

If they can do this, they can do a great many other things.

We sing: Neswick stops us, we focus on one detail in what we have sung; we stay with it until it is right, or at least improved. As we return to the same music in later rehearsals, we attend to smaller details that he had allowed to pass in the earlier singings, and make the phrases, the overall sweep of the anthems and canticles and psalms, better and more focused.

He is a master of framing his comments positively. Not once did he say “that’s wrong.” More likely responses would be “Almost,” or “Maybe that C sharp could be a little higher.” If a treble had tried a phrase as a solo (which is a constant part of the rehearsals) and missed it, Neswick would have one or two more join to try it again, and praise them when they get it right. If there was a note or other detail that the choir missed the first time, he often called on an experienced chorister to demonstrate how it should go. This is old-school, straight out of the RSCM Chorister Training Scheme materials of forty or fifty years ago. And it still works.

Increasingly, Caleigh and Lucy from our Iowa choir are among those on whom he calls. It may be that he came only gradually to recognize their solid musicianship. Clio and Sloane, both of them strong high school musicians, are also among those to whom Neswick turns when he needs a good example. The two of them sing the solo on the anthem “Prayer of the Venerable Bede” (Richard Proulx) – long, unaccompanied, and challenging. At the final evensong, they sing it from the rear gallery of the church; it is magical.

Duncan and Iain are among the boy trebles who are leaders. One of my young friends from previous courses was the tenor to whom Neswick would look: Saul, here from Texas with two younger brothers. It was not so long ago that he was a first-year treble; now, he has a gorgeous tenor voice and first-class musicianship, both as a singer and a violinist. He and his brother Diego demonstrated the latter with a violin duet at the talent show, drawing a standing ovation led by Mr. Neswick. I got to know Saul three years ago when I sang between him and his friend Mario, both of them (that year) brand-new tenors, much as I am this year with Charles and Charlie.

I am proud of all the Iowa choristers. The girls I have mentioned, but I must say more about Alice and Lily. They were not often called upon for solos or examples, but both of them were solid and reliable choristers all week long, fully engaged with the Song. And it is Lily who, back home, is always on time for every rehearsal (along with her younger brother), allowing nothing to take precedence over the choir and its work.

Mike and Tom are across the way, side by side in the bass section, with Mike doubling as proctor and Tom as junior proctor. I suspect that it is a special time for them to sing together, something they cannot often do in a choir nowadays. My friend Judith is in front of me: without her commitment to the Course, it would be difficult or impossible for our group to attend. Beside her is Max in the tenor section, focused and hard-working all week. Beside me is Charles, who became an alto this spring and is attending his first Course. He is a fine and intelligent young man, and it is a delight to sing with him.

I believe that all of us have become better musicians this week. And the treble Sound arrives. At first, there are occasional notes where Mr. Neswick has them sing it several times, working for a “red-hot” sound. Then, more steadily. By Friday, they are singing with a strong ringing tone almost all of the time – and when there is a note that is lacking support and focus, Neswick corrects them and they get it right.


How can I take this home?

Every year, I seek to bring what I have learned to my own work with the choirs in our parish. Most of the time, I fail. I try things, and they don’t work at home.

For one thing, I love Mr. Neswick’s pacing, which is breakneck. That is part of why we can work so well; there is no time to do anything other than work at our highest level. If I were to try this in our adult choir at home, there are a few singers who would be absolutely lost. They would not be able to keep up. I must respect that.

With the trebles, I must likewise respect that not all of them will be outstanding, highly focused choristers. Some of them do indeed have difficulty focusing on anything for more than a couple of minutes. And over the years, I have driven a few singers off by making the rehearsals more challenging than they could manage. I regret this, deeply.

But I can, and should, take home the most important parts of what Mr. Neswick does: Connection to the music, which he leads by his own example of total immersion in what we are doing. A renewed commitment to solfege. Love for the choristers, which grows increasingly clear as the week progresses, most of all in our farewells at the end when he was in tears (another way in which he and I are alike; if my choristers were to give me a card as they did him, I would be an emotional wreck). One detail at a time, staying with it until it has improved. Work where the choir is – as they improve, raise the bar.

[To be continued]