GO FOR BAROQUE IN SOUTH AMERICA

Hardly a day goes by without fresh evidence that my ignorance is boundless. The most recent lacuna in my intellectual data base concerns South America. Let's see, I know that there are a bunch of countries in South America. The most common language spoken are Spanish and Portugese, although I am aware the people of Guyana speak English, and the people of Suriname speak Dutch. (I've known people from those two countries.) I also know there are a bunch of people who speak Italian and German. I once listened to a conversation in an airport where the mother spoke German to her son who replied in Spanish, while the boy's sister was reading a magazine in English.

What do I know about South American music, however? Samba, bossa nova, tango, of course. The greatest South American composer was probably Heitor Villa-Lobos, and I know a tiny bit about the tango composer Ástor Piazzolla. It came as a total surprise to me, then, as I listen to "Morning Edition" on NPR and hear about the tradition of baroque music in Bolivia. In the late seventeenth century Jesuit Priests established missions among the Chiquitano people of what is now eastern Bolivia. They used music as an evangelization tool, but the people embraced it and made it their own. Thousands of manuscripts exist and are being restored. Evidently there are several youth orchestras now that play this old baroque music as part of their past.

I should have known about South American baroque music since I have played an organ work by Domenic Zipoli, an Italian baroque composer who eventually went to South America where he continued to write music. And I knew there was a good bit of baroque music written in Mexico, not something most people pay attention to. I listen to some of the clips of these Chiquitano orchestras playing and was impressed by their skill. I hope to find some affordable recordings one of these days.

I am always moved by people who rediscover their own traditions whether it be music, art or literature. It's a shame when any culture loses part of its heritage. It especially delights me when young people find their roots. People should take pride in not only who they are but who their people were.

Americans seem regrettably blind to their own heritage. For example, I'd venture to say that most Floridians have forgotten that the first city established in what is now the United States was here in Florida–St. Augustine. Or that the first European language spoken here was Spanish, not English. I wonder what kind of music they played in Spanish St. Augustine? I'll have to investigate that some time.

Speaking of music from one's heritage, I don't have any polka recordings in my collection even though polkas were a big part of my musical experience growing up. Every wedding had a three-piece combo that played polkas. Sometimes when I'm out driving on a Sunday I can pick up "Polka Party" on the radio. Problem is, I much prefer Polish polkas to German ones. They're livelier. German polkas always tend to sound a little like a military march, sort-of "Let's Polka in and Take Over the Sudetenland."

Well, whatever music stirs your heart. As Martin Luther said, "Next to the Word of God, only music deserves to the be governor of human emotions."

May the Lord God bless you in your way and greet you on your arrival.

Wayne

Picture from NPR

2053

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP? Part 2

I was a senior in high school, unsure what to do. So what was I good at? What did I like? Music, of course. Why not a career in music? I had listened to classical music and studied it for years, took piano lesson, sang in church choirs, sang in the school choir–although that was a strange fluke. I was in a study hall in the auditorium that was run by some faculty members who must been trained by the Gestapo. It was such an oppressive atmosphere that when the chorus director (always called "Coach") came to the study hall recruiting singers, I signed up immediately. With all that musical back ground why not teach music?

Well, my parents weren’t enthused about thatprospect. Music didn't seem like a very secure profession to follow. My father in particular didn’t think I had enough musical background since I didn’t play any instrument other than piano. He took me around to see a former organist of our church in hopes that she would either talk me out of it or say I wasn’t good enough. I think that is a reaction of many parents toward a child who seeks a career in the arts. It doesn’t seem practical. How can you make a living at it. I think I was clear-minded enough to know I would never have a career as a soloist, but teaching an performing in an ensemble and even directing held possibilities.

I persisted in my interested and my father came around enough to give it a chance. I sent off for catalogues, studied programs, went to presentations on college day. I had thought of the University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana, but my father wasn't too keen on the cost of living away from home. So I looked through the catalogues from local universities (there are a lot of them in Chicago.) And then did a really dumb thing. I applied to one and only one institution: The Chicago Musical College of Roosevelt University. The University was relatively young (1945), but the Musical College was one of the oldest in the country (1867). I think it was just naivete on my part that I approached things this way. Today students send in applications to a dozen colleges hoping to get acceptance at a couple and then make a choice. I can’t remember what went through my mind, but I seemed to have no doubt that I would be accepted. And I was right. The university found my transcripts and ACT scores good enough. But I had to pass the audition. All programs in performing arts (theater, dance and music) require auditions. They must have told me what to expect, but until you’ve been through the audition, you don’t know what to expect. My piano teacher worked with me to develop music to perform (The Schumann Traumeri. I studied theory from an ancient book I had found. The audition was very thorough There was a written examination in music theory, a written test in dictation where the instructor plunks out stuff on a piano and you are supposed to write down what you hear (I did poorly on that), a sight singing test where they hand you a piece of music, give you the first note and you’re supposed to sing it. Then the audition in piano. I played whatever scales and chords they asked, played my performance piece, and sight read whatever music they handed me. Then it was over and you waited to get the letter telling would happen. Well, I was accepted despite the awful dictation exam. I think my piano performance was what sold it since most choral music education majors started with a year of group piano instruction, but I went straight to individual instruction. My piano teacher was one of the people who examined me in my piano audition.

Performing arts of any kind have a demanding program, always requiring more credit hours of work than an academic program. Then there was the sheer amount of time you spent practicing. I had half-hour lessons each week in piano and voice, but it took hours of work to prepare for those. The choral ensembles had two long rehearsals every week, plus extra rehearsals when we performed with the orchestra, plus concerts. I used to run into my cousin on her way to work and we would ride the train downtown together. I would embarrass her if I got a seat by practicing conducting or tapping out rhythm exercises as we rode. Well, you can’t waste forty minutes doing nothing.

Every semester was the dreaded jury exams in piano and voice. In piano a jury of three faculty members other than your own teacher listened to you do the required technique demonstrations and the pieces you had learned. They determined your grade. In voice exams, the entire vocal faculty listened to you. That was the scariest thing. In piano you had your back to the jury so they could watch your hands. In voice you faced them head on as in a recital. Voice instruction always included lessons on how to stand, what to do with your hands, how to indicate to an accompanist you’re ready, etc. Nothing in performing is left to chance. At the end of the second year there was a screening exam to determine if you had learned enough to be allowed to advanced to upper division work. I passed that, too.

I suppose I was an average student in music. I was too far behind the curve to develop my voice enough so I continued to take voice lessons beyond the requirements. I was considerably worse than average dictation, and considerably above average in conducting.

In the last semester you take student teaching. Of all things, I was assigned to the high school my mother had attended. And I worked with the same woman who directed girls chorus when my mother sang in the chorus. (I even think they were doing the same music). As I recall I was in a section of general music, mixed chorus, girls chorus, observed orchestra, and had to work in the attendance office. I have to say I was pretty good with the girl's chorus. They let me conduct a piece in the concert (the one the students attended, not the one parents attended.) It was rare to allow student teachers to conduct. I was only the second one in that school's history. General music and mixed chorus did not go as well, not because I didn't know my stuff, but because both of those setting were filled with students who didn't want to be there. Music was required of students. They either had to take general music or mixed chorus. In those settings I was on the side of the teachers and therefore an enemy. The adversarial relationship between teachers and students in high school was a horror. I hated the prospect that I'd spend the rest of my life in a relationship of conflict rather than cooperation.

It would seem that my career was about to end before it started, but there was already a new direction taking place that I'll talk about in the next blog. Did I waste four years in studying music? Absolutely not! What I learned about music has been a treasure to me. I hear music differently than people who haven't been trained in the field. I've sung in a several choruses since college. I've earned a few bucks as a choir director, substitute teacher, even an organist or pianist occasionally. I've worked with a private school's music program. I even taught other musicians. All of that has been a joy I wouldn't give up. I also learned the values of professionalism by being a performer. I think I can work in front of people because of the skills I had. I certainly am a better pastor because I can work with musicians and understand what they are doing. I don't consider the time, effort and cost I out into learning a music a waste in the least.

I'll see you next week to continue my story.

May you travel your journey making a joyful noise to the Lord.
And may the Lord God bless you on your way and greet you on your arrival.

Wayne

A LATE CHRISTMAS GIFT

I ought to explain to my six or so faithful readers, that the blogs I write are not like a diary. They are written at various times and not necessarily posted in order. This one is being written January 11, for example, but I know it won't be posted until the end of January. As a result, the subject matter can seem somewhat out of date.

Maybe you can tell from these blogs that I really love Christmas. I usually look forward to taking several days off following the Christmas eve celebration to recover from the preparation and enjoy the season. This year with Christmas falling on Sunday, Advent was shortened by a week, and I couldn't get things ready for the days following. Hence, I only got one day off following Christmas, December 26 St. Stephen's Day, or Boxing Day as it is called in England, which is usually observed as a holiday there.

Deprived of my extra days off, I tried to extend by holiday season a little past Epiphany (January 6) even though I had packed up all the decorations and, worse yet, had again started on the low-fat, low-carb diet my physician insists on for me. I decided I deserved a special treat as compensation, so I ordered two DVDs I have been wanting for several years, "Carols from Kings" and "Anthems for Kings." The "Kings" in both cases refer to King's College, Cambridge. Endowed by King Henry VI there have been boy choristers singing there since the fifteenth century joined by adult male choral scholars. The most famous service of the choir is the service of Nine Lessons and Carols held every Christmas Eve and broadcast throughout the world.

I have listened to recordings of the choir for forty years now and some years catch the BBC broadcast in the U.S. which starts in the morning of Christmas Eve. Although I have attended Carol Services in this country many times, I never had the opportunity to see the televised version from Cambridge. With my new DVD I now have the opportunity to see the 2000 version of the service with the choir under the direction of Stephen Cleobury.

On a cold (for Florida) January evening I settled down to watch sipping a mug of steaming no-fat, no sugar added hot cocoa. It's a magnificent program. This is the first recording in surround sound which gives some impression of wonderful acoustics. It's visually wonderful, also. There are tremendous shots of the fan-vaulted ceiling of the chapel as well as of the choir.

The first Carol is always "Once in Royal David's City" sung unaccompanied by one of the boys. I have learned that it is the practice that four boys are prepared to sing the solo, but only at the last minute the director indicates who will sing. The youngster does a great job on this recording, without flaw. As I watch the video, I wondered why the choir was standing in the front of the chapel, before the altar with it's glorious altar piece, "The Adoration of the Magi" by Rubens. From everything I had read, the choir processed from the ante-chapel behind the organ screen and into the chapel. They were at the wrong end! And then when the first lesson was read, I was even more astounded. It was the wrong lesson. Had some one fooled with tradition and changed things? It was only later listening to an interview of the past three directors of the choir that I learned that in addition to the official service, the choir performs another one with different music for a televised version. My goodness! There are 25 carols in this recording. The boys have to learn a tremendous amount of music in addition to what they sign for the daily services in the chapel and special concerts.

An added feature of this DVD is the inclusion of a film of part of the festival of lessons and carols done in 1954 when Boris Ord was director. It’s black and white, of course, and the sound is below par, but it is a nice bonus. Ord directed the choir from 1928 to 1957 so this was near the end of his tenure. He directed, as was the custom then, with one finger tapping on the choir stall. The performance of “One in David’s Royal City” was almost painful to watch as his directing had almost nothing to do with what the boy was singing and I learned from an interview with David Wilcocks that Ord would hum the pitch for the singer in a rather indefinite tone, so the singer had to pull the pitch out of the air and ignore the directing which would have been no help at all. Well, the real work in a performance in the rehearsing, and Ord must have worked the singers hard to achieve the quality they did produce.

I suppose if I were more “blog literate” I would know how to include some recorded samples of the music, but I haven’t a clue how to do that. The best I can do is the pictures of the chapel, the choir, and the boys in their extraordinary top hats.

How wonderful it is to hear youngsters doing such professional work. Today fewer and fewer people are actually learning to perform music. Schools cut the music programs as economy measures depriving the students of the opportunity for learning about music and performing. And churches are no better. The day when a large church had three or four children’s choirs is gone. Even a small church like the one I grew up in had a choir for children and another one for teens. I loved singing and still consider my short time directing both an adult and a children’s choir one of the high points in my life. I’ll never forget the Christmas I had the children playing assorted instruments–piano, chimes, triangle, finger cymbals, and tambourine–to accompany the adults. The congregation had never heard anything like it. Someone even started to applaud. What joy there is in making music. I can't imagine being without it.

"Be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Ephesians 5:18-20).

May you travel your journey with music in your ears and on your lips and in your heart.
And may the Lord God bless you on your way and greet you on your arrival.

Wayne