I once was lost but now am found

Here is an improvisation on “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.”

My plan was for an A-B-A form in C Major, with leanings toward C Lydian (F sharps). For the middle section, I strayed as far as possible, to F sharp minor (which is one reason I included the F sharps in the beginning), and tried something new (for me) – a direct quotation from what was to be sung by the choir that day: a fragment of the Te Deum by Howells, from his Collegium Regale setting. I made a continuation in that harmonic style, with a truncated return of the A section.

We did not sing the Howells until the later service that morning, so it was a stretch for me to include it in the improvisation. But it was much on my mind. The phrase that I quoted was this: “When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death; thou didst open the kingdom of heaven to all believers.” It seems to me that this is at the foundation of the “amazing grace” of which Newton wrote.

This hymn, “Amazing Grace” is important to me as it is for many. In retrospect, it was one of the first pieces of Real Church Music that I encountered. I could not have articulated it at the time (my infancy in Christ and likewise in music, at about age twelve, newly baptized and in my first year of piano lessons), but I sensed that there was an integrity to this text by John Newton and its shape-note tune, crafted by the folk tradition in the very region where I was living, that was not present in most of the Baptist gospel songs that were the exclusive diet of the congregation. I love those songs too, but they are not at the same level. In fact, there is hardly anything at this level.

For those who might want a deeper look into the hymn, Bill Moyers did a PBS video about it some years ago. One can get a taste of it is from Moyers’ website, where one can read the transcript and hear some excerpts from the video. The full program on DVD might be in your public library.

We feebly struggle, they in glory shine

We met at 4:45 for an hour of rehearsal before Choral Evensong. On this day, it was the Youth Choir as well as our adult choir and the St. Simeon singers who assist with evensong. We had an ambitious music list, including the Bainton anthem “And I saw a new heaven” and the Gibbons Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis from his Short Service. This rehearsal was the only opportunity to combine the adults and youth choir, it was not nearly enough time, and it was a challenging workout, serious and intense.

During the break afterwards, our youngest chorister (known to those who attended this year’s RSCM Course) spoke with me; she said that it was hard; she did not know whether she could do it all again – that is, sing all the music again for the church service. “That is all right,” I told her; “Choral Evensong requires all that you have.”

I have tried to explain this many times on these pages – why is Choral Evensong so important? Why does it matter so much more to me than the Holy Eucharist?

Why was this service, this night, so important?

Part of the answer is what the chorister had already learned, in her first evensong as a part of this choir; one cannot properly sing Evensong without an absolute commitment that requires all that you have. And that is all right; it is indeed our bounden duty. “Thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.”

As we heard this summer from Mr. Walker: “One hundred percent, all of the time.”

One chorister who demonstrated this was Lucy. She arrived for the rehearsal and told me that she hardly had any voice, which was obvious as soon as she spoke. But she had nonetheless come. She sang a little, but mostly she led by example. She lined up the younger choristers for the procession, she was as attentive and fully committed to the rehearsal and service – even when she was unable to sing – as she had been at the RSCM course this summer. By so doing, she showed the younger choristers how it is done. And that is a very great gift, one that I cannot give them.

We were far from perfect. There were plenty of wrong notes, and there were places that with more combined rehearsal would have been more confident. But I believe that every chorister, from youngest to oldest, brought their full commitment to the music and the liturgy. I could hear it in their sound, and so could everyone in the congregation.

Afterwards at the choir’s pizza supper, I spoke again with our youngest chorister. She had learned another lesson; the service seemed shorter than the rehearsal. “They always do,” I said. When it comes time to sing, or play, it goes by so quickly. She liked the Evensong very much; she also spoke of RSCM, and said that she wants very much to go back next summer.

So do I.

But we have something special right here in our parish. There are moments, nowadays, when singing or accompanying this choir, especially the combined choir as we had tonight, is every bit as good as being in the Chapel at Todd Hall, or the Basilica.

Thanks be to God.
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We finished the service with the hymn “For all the saints.” I wanted the youth choir to know this hymn, for it is no longer sung in some places, and rarely with all eight stanzas even here in our parish. I assigned the youth trebles to solo out my favorite stanza, which is a good summary for tonight:

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia.

There was some good music today; I have been listening to the recordings while bringing order to the choir room and working on next Sunday’s bulletins. I might post some more YouTube tracks, but for tonight, what I want to share is my piano improvisation from the 9:00 service. Like much else today, it was not adequately prepared, but it turned out all right. It has been a challenging week at the church, and next week will be no easier, not with a funeral on Tuesday. There have been two or three times when I have not seen a way forward, and always, always – too much work, too little time. “We feebly struggle, they in glory shine…”

The Chronicles

The books of I and II Chronicles are entirely absent from the Revised Common Lectionary. Only a few disconnected bits appear in the Daily Office Lectionary, interspersed into the narrative of I and II Kings that we have recently completed. I submit that this is a grievous error, akin to using only one Gospel account for public worship (perhaps St. Luke, as it is the most elegantly written), entirely ignoring St. Matthew and Mark, and taking only a few stray bits from St. John. We have four accounts of the Messiah’s ministry for very good reasons, not least to emphasize the centrality of these events. It is for similar reasons that Genesis contains two creation stories, and other passages where it appears that two or more parallel oral histories have been stitched together. Exodus contains but the one account of the deliverance from Egypt and the giving of the Torah, but it is revisited several times in the Psalter (especially Psalms 105 and 106, but also Psalm 78 and others), and is never far from the heart of the prophets.

It has been my custom for decades to read the Chronicles at this point in the two-year Daily cycle, after the completion of II Kings, alongside the bits from Jeremiah and Lamentations that have occupied us for the last week or so and the reading of Ezra and Nehemiah that begins tomorrow. I commend this practice to you, especially the reading of the Chronicles as a connected narrative in one swoop.

I will admit that I do not read the genealogies closely, and skim lightly over some of the other passages. But they are not to be entirely skipped. Some observations:

Adam, Sheth, Enosh
Kenan, Mahalaleel, Jered (I Chron. 1:1-2)

Thus begins the nine chapter genealogy. It profits from being read aloud, for it then becomes clear that the names are grouped for ease of memorization. It boggles my mind to consider such a task, but it is equally clear that some people did exactly that – they memorized these lists of names so that they could retain them as a part of their history, long before such things were committed to writing. It is also striking how little bits of family lore slip into the lists, just as they would when an old person is recounting her memories to the youngsters. There are many such examples in I Chronicles; here is one.

Now Sheshan had no sons, but daughters. And Sheshan had a servant, an Egyptian, whose name was Jarha. And Sheshan gave his daughter to Jarha his servant to wife; and she bare him Attai. And Attai begat Nathan, and Nathan begat Zabad… (I Chron. 2:34-36)

As a child, I sat for hours in utter boredom in my grandfather’s sitting room, the flies buzzing in the windows, as he and his sisters spoke of relatives and ancestors long dead, slipping in stories in exactly this manner. I wish that I had listened.

It is worthy of note also that there are no dates. Just the names, in their order, with an occasional reference to the wider events of the kingdom, such as “in the days of Hezekiah king of Judah” (4:41).

And these are they whom David set over the service of song

And these are they whom David set over the service of song in the house of the LORD, after that the ark had rest. And they ministered before the dwelling place of the tabernacle of the congregation with singing, until Solomon had built the house of the LORD in Jerusalem: and then they waited on their office according to their order… (6:31-32)

It is a delight to read these names, “they that waited, with their children” (v. 33). As the commentaries observe, these musicians, these Levites (and the porters, the equivalent of modern-day church sextons and ushers) are elsewhere nameless. It is only the priests who are considered worthy of mention by name.

This parallels current practice. In the church hallway upstairs, one may find photographs of the Bishops of Iowa and the Rectors and other clergy of this parish. No musicians. No Christian educators. And especially, no sextons or vergers, no ladies and gentlemen of the Altar Guild.

It is well to know by evidence of Holy Scripture that these persons are not unknown to God.

So they brought the ark of God, and set it in the midst of the tent that David had pitched for it, and they offered burnt sacrifices and praise offerings before God… And he appointed certain of the Levites to minister before the ark of the LORD, and to record, and to thank and praise the LORD God of Israel: Asaph the chief, and next to him Zechariah, Jeiel, and Shemiramoth… (16:1, 4-5a)

Then on that day David delivered this psalm to thank the LORD into the hand of Asaph and his brethren. Give thanks unto the LORD, call upon his name, make know his deeds among the people. Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him, talk ye of all his wondrous works (v. 7-9)

The following passage (v. 8-36) is an anthology drawn from several of the Psalms, which the commentary assures us are all “post-exilic.” I would not be so sure, not in the face of a direct statement in Scripture that they came from the hand of David at the very time that the ark came to Jerusalem.

After the psalms, the passage continues:

So he left there before the ark of the covenant of the LORD Asaph and his brethren to minister before the ark continually, as every day’s work required (16:37)

To any church musician, that last part has resonance. Three thousand years later, the ministry continues “as every day’s work requires.”

Yet more names

Chapters 23 through 27 are an account of those who ministered at the time when David, “old and full of days, made Solomon his son king over Israel” (23:1). It is a treasure to know these names, even to the point of the ordering of the musicians into twenty-four bands (25:8-31), after “they cast lots, ward against ward, as well the small as the great, the teacher as the scholar (v. 8). We see in this passage that then as now the music involves not just the adults and the most accomplished, but the small as well as the great, the teacher and the scholar. The musicians learned their work from childhood by doing it alongside their parents, their uncles and grandparents, the others of the musical community. This is a model for modern church music, a model which is too often ignored by musicians and parishes who do not have the patience to include the children in anything meaningful or important.

Moreover David and the captains of the host separated to the service of the sons of Asaph, and of Heman, and of Jeduthun, who should prophesy with harps, with psalteries, and with cymbals… (25:1)

The close relation of prophecy and music is a subject too large to address here; it is enough to note that one does not simply “play” at music; it must be a prophetic work, guided (as with all prophecy) by the Spirit of God. In this context, one may well consider St. Paul’s teachings in I Corinthians 12 through 14:

Follow after charity, and desire spiritual gifts, but rather that ye may prophesy… he that prophesieth speaketh unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort (14:1,3)

And of course, this:

What is it then? I will pray with the spirit, and I will pray with the understanding also: I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also (14:15)

The conclusion of the matter: Holy Men and Holy Women

Time fails to delve further into these things, but I cannot pass II Chronicles without the mention of two passages, both of them with the essential details presented here and not in II Kings:

Also the Levites which were the singers, all of them of Asaph, of Heman, of Jeduthun, with their sons and their brethren, being arrayed in white line, having cymbals and psalteries and harps, stood at the east end of the altar, and with them an hundred and twenty priests sounding with trumpets: It came even to pass, as the trumpeters and singers were as one, to make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the LORD… that the house was filled with a cloud, even the house of the LORD; So that the priests could not stand to minister by reason of the cloud: for the glory of the LORD had filled the house of God (II Chronicles 5:11-14)

Those who have been involved in the church’s music for very long have experienced such moments, when the musicians (including the congregation as they sing) are “as one,” and the Shekinah, the “cloud” that is the outward sign of the glory of the LORD, fills the house to the point that we are overcome and (at least for the moment) cannot continue.

This is not something of human manufacture. There is always the temptation to use music to manipulate, to achieve a desired effect or to implant an agenda. These are unworthy goals which stand in the way of music’s proper function, which is to help the people attain their unity in Christ (“as one”) and together to come into the divine Presence.
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Hezekiah began to reign when he was five and twenty years old, and he reigned nine and twenty years in Jerusalem… and he did that which was right in the sight of the LORD, according to all that David his father had done. He in the first year of his reign, in the first month, opened the doors of the house of the LORD, and repaired them… (II Chron. 29:1-3)

The reign of Hezekiah is one of the central passages of the Old Testament. Fittingly, it is recorded not once or twice, but three times (II Kings, here in II Chronicles, and Isaiah). It is only here that the account is given in detail of the cleansing of the House and the restoration of worship according to its ancient and proper pattern, including the musical work (29:25-28), and the great Passover, such as had not been since the time of Solomon (chapter 30).

The Sages say that there are four holy men who found God on their own, out of the darkness without human assistance (though not without Divine help and revelation): Abraham, Job, the Messiah – and Hezekiah. He had grown up in the wicked court of his father Ahaz, and somehow he found it in his heart to do as he did.

But he was not the last king worthy of his fathers, for as we read in the Chronicles, there was one more revival under Josiah (chapters 34 and 35). He too restored the passover, with the musical service (35:15), so that it was written

And there was no passover like to that kept in Israel from the days of Samuel the prophet (35:18).

When he died in battle at the age of thirty-nine,

… all Judah and Jerusalem mourned for Josiah. And Jeremiah lamented for Josiah: and all the singing men and the singing women spake of Josiah in their lamentations to this day… (35:24-25).

The end was now at hand. But it is not a small thing for one’s death to be lamented by Jeremiah the prophet – perhaps in musical form, as might be implied by the context. One might also note the “singing women” in this verse; until now, we have heard nothing of female musicians, and it is good to know that they were there. Unlike the men, we do not even have their names, nor anything about what they did (beyond “lamentations”). But like the men, they are known to God and their music is not forgotten; like all music that is true, it ever remains in the heart of God.

We live in time and can see and hear but the present moment, with memories of the past – our own memories, and those preserved in the genealogies and stories and writings passed from our ancestors. Music preeminently is the art of the Present – it exists in its only true form, its live sound in performance, only in the moment. But God stands above the circle of time and perceives it all, in its entirety, all at once and forever.

When love is found

There is a new clip on YouTube: our anthem from this past Sunday.
When Love is Found (Daniel Kallman)

Sunday's lessons were one of the few occasions in the Lectionary when the subject of Marriage appears. Musically, we were able to support this with our anthem, with a fine text by Brian Wren that recognizes how marital love changes. By the time one has been married thirty or forty years, it is quite different from the first days of “falling in love.” Here is a link to the Hymnary.org page. It appears that if you agree to the licensing terms, you may download a copy of the text from the publisher for personal use.

We also had a song by John Bell that relates mostly to the lesson from Genesis 2, where Woman and Man are made and become “one flesh,” a verse quoted by Jesus in the Gospel (St. Mark 10:2-16). Jesus adds: “What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” The song: “Women and men as God intended.” The Hymnary.org page does not include a text. The song may be found in the Iona collection “One is the Body.”

The second painting on the YouTube clip, “Marriage” by Nicholas Poussin, is one of a series that he painted on the Seven Sacraments. They are all worthy of study. Here is the link. He painted the series twice, but some of the paintings were destroyed in a fire in 1816 – thus, there are two versions for some of the Sacraments, and one for the others.

Brown Gold

With pleasure, I direct my readers to this video:
Brown Gold (a song about composting)

The group is the Family Folk Machine, which is directed by Jean Littlejohn. She is an amazing musician. Not only can she do everything that I can (playing the organ, directing choirs), but she has a side that I entirely lack – folk music. She plays guitar and banjo, and most of all she founded the Folk Machine and has developed it into a confident fun-loving group of singers and players that has become important to our community. She writes most of the arrangements for the group. Besides the string band that accompanies the video, they also have a more “classical” string ensemble – violin, cello – made up of some of the FFM children, and Jean writes the arrangements for them as well. Their concerts, which are always a delight, include a healthy dose of group singing by the audience, and that is a central part of the FFM's mission.

Not all of their songs are as light-hearted as “Brown Gold,” for there is quite a lot in the folk tradition that is dark, and the FFM explores that side as well. In the same concert where they sang “Brown Gold” and (my favorite from that program) the song “Home-Grown Tomatoes,” they also had songs about migrant workers and the Dust Bowl here in the Midwest.

I am pleased that they have produced this, their first “music video.” I hope that there will be more. I am proud of the three girls who sing solos near the beginning; they are in our parish choirs. So are two other singers in the video.

Back in the spring, Jean suggested an idea that has developed into what we call the “St. Simeon's Choir.” It is an auditioned group of singers that join the regular adult choir for the First Sunday Evensongs, and it has allowed several people – including Jean, and two of the girls from the video – who are unable to be with us for every Wednesday night and Sunday morning to sing the Evensongs. Tomorrow will be our second service with the expanded ensemble.

In a lesser world, there would be only one kind of music, and it would be a gift of grace to have it. But our God is not only gracious, but extravagant. We have music of every possible style. This becomes a test for working musicians, a test that many often fail -- can we step outside of our own style? Can we listen with joy to something completely different? If not, we cannot long continue in joy even with our own music; it will wither and die.

And if there is not something like the Family Folk Machine in a community, keeping the folk traditions alive, something withers and dies in the community as well.

Thank you, Jean and the FFM singers and players, for the imagination and hard work that has brought the Folk Machine to our community. May it prosper and "grow a lot" and help our community to do the same.

Confirmation: Children of the heavenly Father

Today was the Bishop's Visitation, with the sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation. The appointed Gospel was St. Mark 9:30-37, wherein Jesus takes a little child in his arms and tells the disciples that “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”

With that in mind, our anthem was a setting of the old Swedish hymn “Children of the heavenly Father” by Daniel Kallman. Here is the YouTube clip from this morning's service.

I have been ill at ease for several days and not at all productive in my work. Today I realized why; this day was important to me, so much that I could focus on little else – very much like I get during Holy Week, or the run-up to our Lessons and Carols service in Advent, or the day of the first choir rehearsals of the fall season.

Our Bishop does not often visit our parish; his last visit was the installation of our current rector, about a year and a half ago, and he has not done Confirmation here for many years. He prefers to administer “regional” confirmations (of which today's service was one, though we had no candidates from beyond our parish), and the last one of those was I think more than a year ago.

We had two young adults who were both baptized and confirmed today – one of them, J., sings in the choir, and both of them are Musicians, string players. And we had two young children – one a child of about one or two years, the other an infant of about one month, on his first visit to Church. His parents are dear to me, and this child has not come to them easily, so it was highly emotional for me, and for many others who know them. May he live to see his children's children.

The confirmation included the two young men, as I mentioned, another adult who is new to our parish, plus two high school students who have gone through the multiple years of preparation for confirmation. They also are dear to me; one of them sang in our youth choir when he was a child and attended an RSCM Course with us.

And it included one of my friends, who asked me to be her sponsor. When the time came, I presented her to the Bishop, stumbling over her name, and alongside her husband and children, laid hands on her as the Bishop administered this holy Sacrament.

Strengthen, O Lord, your servant N. with your Holy Spirit; empower her for your service; and sustain her all the days of her life. Amen (BCP p. 309)

The power that is in this Sacrament differs from what one senses in Holy Baptism. There is a determination and strength in Confirmation, as the above prayer suggests. And there is a sustenance. I have found it so; I do not think that I would have persevered in my Christian life, and certainly not in my work as a church musician, without the inward grace of this Sacrament. Like the sacrament of Holy Matrimony, the inward grace of Confirmation seems to appear most of all very much later, years and decades later, when it is most needed.

And like all of the Sacraments, the power is not something “supernatural.” Not at all. It is, rather, thoroughly “natural” – the power I sensed today as I joined in the laying on of hands is the same power that one senses in a sunrise, or the vigorous strength of a tree in its full maturity, or the irresistible onset of Spring. I believe that this “naturalness” can be found only in the works of the One we serve, and never in the counterfeits of the Enemy. His works can dazzle, or entertain, or overpower with violence, or carry one away with the frenzy of a mob bent on mayhem and murder. But there is no life in them.

The wisdom that comes from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. (St. James 3:17, from today's Epistle)

In closing, I include my prelude improvisation from the middle service. It is a set of variations on the hymn “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation,” with the tune “Lobe den Herren.”

Many of the important examples of the Variation form stray quite far from the tune as the variations continue; I tried to emulate this by moving to the dominant minor and including several passages of development, and avoiding full statements of the theme through much of the improvisation. A critic could call it a confused mish-mash of conflicting forms, with elements of A-B-A, and sonata form, and even a hint of rondo. But to my ear, it seems to work, and to present some possibilities for future efforts.

I did not realize how much of me was bound up into this day's liturgies until they were done. I was able to join my friend and her family for a relaxed dinner at a barbecue house, followed by an hour's nap in my Honda, up on the top level of the parking ramp in the sunshine, and then I spent the balance of the afternoon and evening working out fingerings. Most of it was for the Dorian Toccata and Fugue of Bach, which is on the schedule for Christ the King. It is a serious and intense work, and it was good to delve into it, and I found that I could do so with a freedom that had eluded me this week.

I took a break after the Toccata for Evensong in our church's courtyard as the sun set and the half-moon sailed across the clear sky. The psalm for this Twentieth Evening is 104, the psalm that most closely relates to the world of Nature. Near the end is a passage that is one of my watchwords; I have it posted in Hebrew in my office. In its context in the Psalm, it is a reminder that Music (when it is done aright), being one of the works of our Maker, partakes in the “naturalness” of all that lives and grows and nurtures and heals.

Ashira l'Adonai b'hachai
Azemerah leohi b'odi
Ye'erav alaiou sichi
Esemach b'Adonai

I will sing to the LORD as long as I live;
I will praise my God while I have my being.
May these words of mine please him;
I will rejoice in the LORD.

Evening Song, Canticles, and H. M. the Queen

Our First Sunday choral evensong on Sept. 6 went well. I do not have time to say much about it beyond grateful thanks to the choristers, especially the new choristers of the St. Simeon's Choir, which augments the regular Trinity Choir for evensongs – this was the first time for the combined groups.

But I do wish to refer you to some music from the service:

The organ prelude: by David Hurd, “Evening Song.” It is a quiet and contemplative piece, obviously influenced by Messiaen. I own Dr. Hurd an enormous debt, for he was the first Organist that I heard. I was eighteen, newly arrived at Duke, and singing in the Chapel Choir for the first Sunday of the term, when it was open to all comers. As we processed into the Duke Chapel, Hurd was playing the Bach Prelude and Fugue in B Minor on the old Aeolian organ - I believe that this was his first Sunday, as well, at least his first semester as Chapel Organist.

The Bach piece changed my life. I had no idea that Real Music could be a part of Christian worship. I knew of Bach -- by this time, I had played some of the first book of the Well Tempered Clavier -- but I had never heard any of the organ music; indeed, I had never heard a pipe organ.

I did not take organ lessons at Duke: a friend who was an organ major discouraged me from it. But the seed was planted. And I did not sing in the Duke Choirs; I auditioned - twice - and did not make the cut. This was grievous to me at the time, but it has proven to be better for me as a choral director; it has given me a firm commitment to the welcoming of all who evidence sufficient desire to come to rehearsals.

And here are the Canticles: the Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis. These were composed for our choir by Justin Mann during the year that our Pilcher organ was in storage for a construction project and we were worshipping in the Parish Hall. Thus, the accompaniment is for piano. I do not know of another setting of the Canticles with piano accompaniment, which in my opinion should give this version wide applicability. On two Wednesdays' rehearsal, we did not entirely do it justice, but I hope that the YouTube clip gives a sufficient idea of the piece.

I must hurry on, but I cannot close without special thanks to Jean L., who suggested the idea of the St. Simeon's Choir and did much to make it possible.

And I also wish to congratulate Her Majesty the Queen: on this day, she passes Victoria as the longest-reigning British monarch. She is the "Royal" in the Royal School of Church Music -- that is, she is the RSCM's Royal Patron. Her mother, of blessed memory, was the Patron after the death of George VI (who, until his death, was the Patron, as was his father). It is said that she frequently visited the RSCM Courses in Great Britain, to hang out with the choristers and especially the directors, with whom she would have a bit of sherry or other refreshment. And she was diligent in this work to the end of her long life. Since then, Elizabeth R. has been the Patron. She is not a great fan of classical music, but she takes the RSCM seriously and supports its work.

Long live the Queen!

In my Father's house are many mansions

Today was a housewarming party for my friends N., J. and their children. Being Monday, it is also my Sabbath. And it was a beautiful sunny day of late summer. I was unsure of the parking in their neighborhood, so I left my Honda in the staff parking behind the church and walked, about fifteen minutes through a fine older neighborhood. And I found the place, which is on a street that I had never visited; a quiet side street close the children's school – once I got within about a half-block, all I had to do was to follow my ears to the house where lots of children were playing in the backyard – what seemed to be about half of our Youth Choir, plus many others.

It was the sort of house that I love: nineteenth century, with old wavy glass in the windows, what looked like pine floors, low ceilings, especially in the tiny bedrooms upstairs – which can be reached only by way of a narrow steep staircase. Too many homes of Episcopalians are cold and sterile, everything perfectly placed and mostly new, more like a luxury hotel suite than any place where a person could actually live. This was Home, a place that had clearly been home to several generations and brimming with life.

On this day, it was full of children, tumbling up and down the stairs, through the rooms, in and out the back door into the yard. I mostly stood in a corner of the kitchen with my friend's father and watched, talking of the Greatest Generation and what has followed, and comparing it to the generation of the War Between the States, who did what they could to ensure that nothing like that would ever happen again. It may have been such a family that first built this house, back in the 1880's or thereabouts. And I am sure that the great-grandparents of these children, who would have been of that Great Generation, would be pleased that they have a Home in a quiet neighborhood where they can walk to school, and would say a prayer that they never see the dark days of Depression and War.

I pray that for them, too.

All in all, it made for a fine Sabbath of rest for me to be there among these people, the parents who could almost (by age) be my children, and their children, running about and enjoying the day. It reminded me more than a little of the fictional household of Arthur and Molly Weasley.

Walking back to the church, I considered something that has sometimes nagged at me about Heaven – how could it be a perfect place and the Home of which all others are but a shadow without children running around and playing in the yard? It would not be fair for those who die as children and make their first entrance into Heaven as such to remain so; they must come to their full flowering of maturity, as must we all. So would there be no children in that place? On this day, the answer came to me: We are the children. All of us, clear back to Adam and Eve. In that place, the child that remains tucked away inside of us can peek its head around the door and see wonders beyond imagining. And all of his friends, all there. And a whole universe to play in. And at the same time, each of us with the maturity and wisdom of the ancients. And a Father who is more playful than the most mischievous child; one need only read in the Book of Nature and contemplate the God who created puppies and kittens and lambs in the spring.

Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

Hammered Dulcimer and miracles

I awoke early this morning with the thought that the Hammered Dulcimer could be an instrument for one of my young friends to learn. I did some “research” – that is, I spent about a half-hour on YouTube – and passed the results on to her mother.

But in the process, I was hooked.

This is one of those magical instruments which has always left me in awe of its beauty, quicksilver lightness, and grace. Here is a music video by Caleb Shetler that captures some of its spirit.

My favorite performer has always been John McCutcheon: here is one his videos.

For old times' sake, here is McCutcheon again, back in 1981, showing in the first half that he can also play the guitar. The second half is at the hammered dulcimer.

Back in those days, I was able to hear him in live performance several times, because he lived not far away in the mountains of Southwest Virginia.

Not only is the sound beautiful, but so are the instruments. And they are in a price range that I could afford. I spent some time looking at the websites of some builders. Oh, I want one of these!

And I could learn to play it. Here is the first of a series of instructional videos by Jess Dickinson
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Uh... when exactly will I do this? What will I have to neglect to do it? Is it not enough to play the organ? And the piano, with the chance to play that gorgeous Steinway in church every Sunday morning and as often as I can during the week?

That is the rub. I must focus on what I do, and not dream of going off on a tangent.
But I can enjoy the dulcimer and those who play it.

And after the morning's detour, it was a miracle of grace to go upstairs and open up the hundred-year-old Pilcher. Somehow, it was more beautiful in its ancient and venerable grace than before, this King of Instruments, this instrument of Bach and Franck and Messiaen, this instrument of Holy Mother Church and handmaiden of the Divine Liturgy.

And tomorrow, I hope to work with an ensemble yet more beautiful and gracious and precious in the sight of the Lord – for He made these instruments, these choristers with their voices. It is a miracle to sing; it is a miracle to work with singers in a choir. It is the first Sunday of the season for the adult choir, and in the evening – Choral Evensong.

All music is a miracle. I was glad of the reminder this morning.

Reading Music

This year, the Youth Choir has only one new chorister, plus two older choristers who have returned after some years away. Last year, we had a much larger number, but whether one or a dozen, I must teach them to read music. I wish I could say that all of our choristers can sight-sing with ease; they don't. But I have learned to set the standard lower: I would like for them to be able to find the place where we are rehearsing, follow their part in a choral score, sing or speak the rhythms accurately (at least to the level of eighth notes, dotted quarter/eighth patterns, triplets, and occasional sixteenth note passages), and have the basic concept of solfege.

I often draw a chart on the board that outlines the basics:
- follow the notes
- rhythm
- pitch
- other stuff

Follow the Notes:
A chorister is not going to get far if he is not in the same place on the page as the rest of the choir. Or even on the same anthem! It continues to surprise me how often a young chorister can appear to be singing merrily along through ten minutes of work on an anthem, and upon closer examination, she is looking at a completely different anthem. We had one example of that yesterday form a second-year chorister: We were rehearsing the preces and responses by William Byrd; he had the responses by William Smith, bound in the same book. Granted, the text is the same, but I should have caught his mistake more quickly. And (ideally) so should he. So, the first part of following the notes is Finding the Place -- the right anthem, the right page, the right part of the page. It helps when the director is consistent in his announcements: "page six, the second system, third measure." Or as those influenced by Gerre Hancock would say, "Six, two, three," expecting the choir to find it from that - they can, and many choristers seem to enjoy the challenge of moving so quickly.

To this end, I pair a new chorister with a more experienced singer, perhaps one or two years older, or even much older (e.g., middle school or high school). They share one music folder. At first, the new singer watches the older one follow the notes with his finger, then (perhaps on the second or third time through a passage) they trade; the new singer has the folder and follows the notes, with the older singer watching and helping when she gets off-track.

The new choristers invariably want their own choir folder; it is one of the marks of Belonging to the Choir. And I have too often given it to them too early; I did this last year with some of the new singers, and it was in the long run a setback for them. Perhaps a month or so of rehearsals is right for folder-sharing; enough time so that the new singer can confidently follow notes and find the place.

What is "Follow the Notes?" I learned this from watching James Litton work with his probationers at Trinity Church, Princeton many years ago. I tell the choir to follow the notes; they put their finger on the first one, I play a passage (a short passage, perhaps one or two measures at first), they go from one note to the next. I stop suddenly, go around the room, and see if they have it. If not, I help them find it. Over time, the passages get longer, up to several pages sometimes -- but the limit then becomes the practical rehearsal value, for part of what we are doing is having the choir hear a new passage so that they can sing it.

And that is what we do. We follow the notes for a large enough chunk to work on, then we immediately sing it. But (usually) not with words, not yet. For we have more to do.

Rhythm
Rhythm notation is easier to learn than pitch notation, so we start there. I use the Kodaly rhythmic syllables: "Tah" for a quarter note, "Ti" for an eighth note. Longer durations are multiple "Tahs" -- a dotted half note would be "Ta - ah - ah" with an emphasis on each of the three beats.

The very first stage is aural. Especially if there are a lot of new singers (like last year), I will clap a short rhythm, speaking the "Tah's and Ti's", they repeat it back to me. That way, they learn what the durations mean. Then we would work from an example on the whiteboard, speaking/clapping it as I point to the notes. Then we would do the same from an anthem score -- often, I have taken my example from an anthem that we are learning -- speaking it (and following notes as we do so), then singing it on the Tah's and Ti's.

My goal is for the choir (and especially the new singers) to get to where we can sight-read the rhythms directly from the printed music, using the tah's and ti's and speaking the rhythms. They usually catch on to this quickly, within a few weeks or a couple of months.

Even much later, and with an adult choir (if they have learned the Tah's and Ti's), we will use the rhythmic syllables for sight-singing and rehearsal. I use them myself when I work on the congregational hymns, and sing them to myself in the liturgy as I play, especially when it is a situation where the congregation's sound lags behind the organ.

Another advantage of this work is that it breaks the common pattern where a new singer is following the words and not the notes. She must somehow learn to do both at once, but it helps to ignore the words at first.

Pitch
This is harder. Much harder.

Again, I use the Kodaly/Curwen solfege syllables, with movable Do: Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol-La-Ti-Do.
These go much further into the past, back to Guido of Arezzo in the early middle ages. And they remain essential, in my opinion. Others differ -- there are other systems, such as singing by interval. But this is what I teach.

The foundation is in our warmups. We always do scales - a descending scale down from Do to the bottom, then a turnaround and back up to the top. This is because descending patterns are better vocally for developing ease with register shifts. And with the children, we use the hand-signs (depicted in this article on the Kodaly Method). It gives them a tactile experience to go with the singing, and gives me a way to "line out" melodies. After they become thoroughly comfortable with scales and the hand signs, I will change directions in the middle of the scale, go back and forth stepwise, and try to "trick" them. They enjoy this.

After that is comfortable, I introduce skips in the melody. I begin with something like this:
Do-Re-Mi -- Do-Mi
where they have just sung the target of the skip and it is fresh in their memory.

All of this is by sound, rote, and hand-signing. It must be transferred to the page.

The first step is to write a scale on the board, with the solfa names. We sing from the board as I point to the notes; we go back and forth up and down the scale, and maybe do skips. Later, I will write an example from the music we are learning on the board and we will do the same; I point, they sing. Immediately after, we look at the printed score and do the same passage. Often, this is a hymn tune, for they are excellent material for this sort of work.

If the choir gets far enough along with this, we will eventually try to sight-read hymn tunes or anthem material on the solfa syllables, or do a second reading on the solfas after we have read it with the rhythm syllables. Most years, we don't develop much skill with this, though we often reach the point where we can slowly puzzle out a new tune with solfas as a group, the most experienced singers obviously taking a lead and the younger ones following.

I wish we could get further.

Other Stuff

That is, everything else that a music score tells us:
- words (vital for a singer! And this includes the vast domain of diction, phrase shaping, etc.)
- dynamic and tempo markings
- articulations (e.g., accents, breath marks)
- background material (composer, author, etc.)

And much more.

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Reading Music is a lifelong journey, a path I continue to walk. I can do no more than help the young people start down the path. But I am obliged to do at least that much.

Many children's choirs (and adult choirs too) don't do this. It is slow, it takes rehearsal time (though not so much when you are using the songs and anthems they are working on as your teaching material). And most choirs are working toward a more immediate result -- that anthem next month, or the Christmas concert. I believe that this shortchanges the choristers.

Again, I wish we could do more. I feel badly when singers that I have trained audition for other groups -- for example, the voice trials at every summer's RSCM Course. I wish that they would be far superior to the singers from other choirs -- but that is Pride talking, and I must ignore it. And when the occasional person comes through the choir and goes on to be a professional musician, I wish that I could have given them a more thorough training. But at least they have the concepts, which may make their collegiate training a little easier.

One of my young people from years ago, now the principal flutist with a mid-level symphony in the southeast, came back from her first semester at college amazed that her flute teacher expected her and the other students to learn their parts in solfege. She thanked me for getting her started.

More broadly, and probably of more importance, I hope that I can help equip these young people to sing in church and community choirs throughout their life, and intelligently sing the Songs of Zion, the hymns of the church.