All I really need to know I learned in middle school chorus

Never Done: Sing Along Messiah (at Lincoln Center)
Tshuve: Singing in a chorus

One of the things I loved more than anything when I was growing up was to sing. I sang in the school chorus, I sang in community musical theater, I sang in the living room (usually along to all the Broadway musical LP's we had, (which wasn't a vast collection, so I know My Fair Lady, West Side Story, and Godspell extremely well) -- and also, I sang in the Unitarian Church choir. I loved singing in the church choir. I loved the music, I loved being upstairs in the church balcony, I loved the organ. And I was extremely confused about whether or not to sing the words Jesus, Lord, or God out loud.

As I think I have mentioned on this blog before, when I was little, my family was the only Jewish family in my town. Later, other Jewish families came -- first the Kaplans and then the Maisels, and then a few more, and now I am pretty sure the school closes for the High Holidays (although if I would hazard a guess, I would say that the Jewish population of Harvard still falls below the American average of 2%.) But back then, I literally didn't know anybody Jewish who wasn't in my family, and since we were atheists, I didn't understand that Jews could believe in God. I did understand that singing about Jesus was problematic for us (but I had no problem whatsoever belting out the songs from Godspell in the living room.)

I can't remember the last time I'd been in a situation that brought back the feelings I had in church choir -- coming upon the words Jesus Christ, with an imperative to sing them loud, sing them proud, and to feel myself pause on the edge of the word, poised on the moment of transgression. We don't believe in Jesus that way. I think the reason that singing Christmas carols doesn't have the same effect is that when I sing them, I feel like I'm singing on a lark -- in situations that are casual, silly, or truly just for fun. But I took church choir seriously. I took the music, the choral director, and the role of the choir seriously, and really struggled, privately, with the issue. In the end, I decided, privately (I don't remember ever talking with anybody about this) to mouth the words Jesus and God, but that it was OK to sing Lord aloud. I think that's because I had read enough 18th and 19th century British literature (Little Lord Fontleroy, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight) to become comfortable with the word Lord.

So I started saying I can't remember the last time I'd stumbled over singing these words -- until last night, when Josh and I went to the Messiah Sing-In at Lincoln Center. I had borrowed the score from the Brooklyn Public Library, and had downloaded the London Philharmonic's recording, and had practiced a few choruses just a few times -- score and recording. I'd managed to listen to the entire recording a few times through, just on its own, while I was doing other things, but last night was the first time I started at the beginning, and sang through to the end. And just like old times, I didn't have any problem with Lord, and I didn't have trouble with God either -- probably due to the fact that now, 35 years later, I understand the universality of the word God, but I'm telling you, when we got to "But thanks, but thanks, thanks, thanks e to God, but thanks, but thanks, thanks, thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory, the victory, through our Lord, Jesus Christ!" there was really no way around the Christianity of it all. And that was a little hard for me.

But I am getting way ahead of myself.

Avery Fisher Concert Hall was not filled to the gills, but it was quite full of amateur and professional choral singers, most of whom had all come with a score, ready to sing Handel's Messiah, from start to finish. We were not seated in sections; we were seated, as one conductor put it, "scrambled" -- which makes for a wonderfully integrated sound, but it also means that if you don't know the work very well, and you aren't a great sight reader, you have to listen carefully to find your closest counter-part. I was lucky that there was a fairly strong soprano in front of me, and four extremely strong sopranos about 5 rows behind me. When I got lost, I listened for them, and caught a ride. I am an OK sight reader -- quite good with pitches, and less good with rhythms. I'm also very out of practice. There was a time in my life when I was much better at this -- when I studied with an aim to get my BFA in music composition. (I am a few credits, and now many years, shy of reaching that goal.) During those same years, when I studied with the nuns at Marylhurst University in Lake Oswego, Oregon, I sang with one of the small chorales. Later, when I was studying jazz theory at Mount Hood Community College, I sang with a jazz group, and I think I didn't make the cut to sing with the small chorale when I was at Portland State University. This was all in the mid-90s, so I would say I haven't sung regularly with a choir or chorale in 15 years. So when Martin Josman, Musical Director of the National Chorale, stood on the stage and explained to us how we were going to do this, I got tshuve shivers -- so excited to be returning to choral singing, and to be doing it with over 2000 singers in this amazing hall.

It worked like this: there were four soloists, and they each got to sing a couple solos, but Josman explained that they wouldn't get to do all of them because we were there so WE could sing. There were a bunch of choral directors, from Jersey high schools to Columbia University to the musical director for New York public schools -- and they each got a turn conducting us. One of my favorite parts of the evening was when these conductors would take the stage, and would take a couple minutes to actually direct us -- suggest we make our vowels round, or practice the rhythm of a particular passage, or my favorite one, who asked us to raise our right hand and take an oath: "I promise I will not slow down the tempo, no matter how many sixteenth notes, so help me Handel." I just loved feeling a part of a group endeavor where it was in the best interest of the group for each individual to do our best -- and also that the stakes were just not that high. Nobody's career was on the line, no organization's future was being determined; we were singing together, and we all hoped we would sing well, and we all hoped it would sound beautiful. We could probably all learn a lot about how to conduct ourselves in life from how we conduct ourselves in choral singing.

I was going to go on and write all about the actual singing, but I feel like I just hit the Big Message of the day, so I'm going to wrap up. I do want to say that Josh and I saw Nettie there, who is a wonderful singer, and a reader of this blog, and she has since shown me this tool for learning our parts, for next year. If anyone wants to practice, and come back next year, let me know.

Also, I just counted, and I have completed 1/4 of My Mussar Year! I wonder how I'll celebrate... I know -- by doing something I've never done before!