Category: music

But why? Martha’s take

This weekend I recorded a video of myself singing so that I could hopefully avoid the terror and tragedy of the choir audition. I seriously despise a “solo” choir audition.

Why, oh why do choir directors require solo auditions to join the choir? I totally understand that if I wanted to do a solo, I would need to audition…alone. That makes perfect sense to me. But believe you me, I will NEVER request a solo.

Once, many years ago, the choir I was in sent a small group around to do some caroling. About 12 of us walked from shop to shop in a neighborhood that had a lot of little antique stores and sang traditional winter songs. Some were wintery, like Jingle Bells, some were more religious like Hanukkah Blessings. One of the songs was a Christmas song, which I, personally, had sung thousands of times, since I was a child. My mother watched that movie every year, had multiple records with it that she played year round. Suffice it to say, I know the song. Our director invited me to sing a solo – a single line. Twelve words. I had been singing for many years by then and I was like, well, this is my chance. I know the song well, we’ll be in a small group, I’m going to go for it! And let me tell you that when time it was time for my line, my throat just closed up! Luckily there was a lovely person in the group with us who caught it and started singing the line, and I was able to join her. When we left that first shop, she and I had a quick conversation and I told her, tearfully, that I just could not do it. She said she was happy to help and she did, but EVERY time, y’all, EVERY time I had the same sensation. Even though she was there to get me started. Even though it was very low stakes. Most of the shops only had one person in them, the person behind the counter, and they were all very gracious when we came in and sang. But I just could not do it.

I get that exact feeling when I do an audition. In the last few years I have auditioned maybe 6 times. My prepared song is one that I have sung a capella many, many times (with a group) over the course of 20 years. I know it WELL. And yet, almost every time I forget the words mid-way through. It’s not a difficult piece and my voice is, you know, decent. But I get so stressed out every time!

And besides my own extreme response – why, why do directors care what I can do on my own, without music, in an empty room? In a choir, part of what’s needed is that you blend well with other people. That you can stay on your part even if those around you are singing something else. That you can learn the music, stay with the rhythm, come in at the right time. None of that can be tested by making me stand alone and sing you a song.

Also, sight reading! I understand that it’s a useful skill, I do. But in what choir is the director going to hand out a brand new piece of music and then lead the choir out onto the stage to perform it? None that I’ve ever been in. Maybe it makes their job easier if more people get it quickly, but I have never been asked to just read it and perform it in my life (also, I get it if you are a professional singer, but these are community choirs, y’all).  

In one audition last year, someone played a riff and I sang it back. I can do that, and did. But then it turned out he wanted me to listen to 8 bars of music and sing the whole thing back on a la or doo something like that. Uh, no. My brain doesn’t work that way. And also, except for a capella singing, when will I need to do that? Give me 8 bars WITH WORDS and I would probably remember the notes. But why, oh why do I need to be able to do that to be allowed to join the choir? Will there be lots of concerts wherein there will be no time to practice and no words at all in the song? That seems extremely unlikely to me.

For all the many choir directors reading this (hahaha) please feel free to stand me with a couple of your singers (or I can bring along someone to sing with me!) and give me my part. I will happily sing out and stay on my part. Add me in with a few singers and notice how well I can blend and not overpower (unless I have the melody). Listen to how I can follow direction for pace and dynamics.

I sang in a fantastic, large choir wherein we regularly sang in mixed groups (one person from each part standing together vs all the sopranos on one end and the basses on the other end) and managed to know my part. I’m fantastic at memorizing my words. I am attentive to the director and have enough relative pitch to correct myself if necessary while singing. I am good at listening to other singers, too, and asking for help if I need it. All I want to do is sing in a group with music I find interesting and challenging. Wish me luck, y’all.

Here’s a song from Twin Cities Women’s Choir – one of my faves!

Snobs?

Y’all. Someone recently said that Caitlin and I are choir snobs, and in the moment I kind of laughed but also I had a moment where I was like, What? I’m no snob! Then I thought about it for another few seconds and I realized that, if I’m honest, it might be true. Or anyway, it might be true that I’m a choir director snob.

I spent a good 15 years with 3 directors that I really, really liked. Were they objectively better than other directors? I don’t know, because my opinion can only be subjective. But I can tell you this: I sang better with those 3 directors than with any of the other directors I’ve sung with.

I have been singing in a choir since I was about 11 years old. I started in church choirs (once someone called me a choir hopper – I didn’t really have a spiritual home at that time so used to attend churches that were singing music I liked – until they weren’t) and did that for MANY years.

At one church we sang Carmina Burana and the director taught us how to get to the right pitch – there are a lot of moving parts in that piece. He also did a great job of having us all pronounce the words the same way. The text is written in Latin, Middle High German and Old French, so I’m not saying that we sounded like native speakers of any of those languages, but I do know that we had a generally agreed upon way to say all the words. I learned a lot from him about phrasing and dynamics, too.

(Also ran: I’d be remiss if I left out the director of my mom’s choir, Miss Joanie. I didn’t live there so only joined when I was in town, but she had exacting standards delivered with such dry humor I often found myself laughing even if it was my section getting the reprimand.

“Now beloveds,” she would say, “are you making a joyful noise to the Lord? Because when I look at your faces I am just seeing foreheads. I need y’all to look at me and I want y’all to smile like you are praising Jesus with this song.”)

Eventually I discovered community choirs and I discovered that there were ways that singing fed my soul – even without the trappings of religion.

I was lucky enough to start with a director that poured her whole heart and soul into each song, each performance. Sometimes she danced around the room to give us a feel for the song, sometimes she scolded, sometimes she made us put down our music even though we didn’t think we were ready. Her warm-ups were directly related to the music we were about to sing – buzzy lip trills before songs that required that sound – soaring high notes to prep first sopranos – quick tongue twisters for fast lyrics. We had learning tracks and sectionals to figure out the tricky parts.

Beyond the way we sang – she helped us feel like a community. She told us stories we could relate to and encouraged us to help each other. Sometimes in a “ask your neighbor” kind of way, but also sometimes in a “listen to the altos at this part of the song” kind of way. I learned to not just learn my notes but learn how they fit in with the whole song. We once sang a version of Ave Maria that was extremely complicated – I’m not saying I was 100% correct every time – but I was closer that I imagined I could be because I learned to listen to the other parts.

My next community choir had a snarky director who also expected us to lean on each other. To learn when to come in even if he didn’t give us the cue. Not to say that he didn’t – he did when he could – but he wanted us to function not as individual singers dependent on him, but more as a group that supported each other.

Once he divided us up by section and asked us to go and listen to the learning track together.

“Just play it 3 times in a row and come back,” he said.

We did – and I have to say not everyone in my section thought it was a good use of our time – but when we came back, the whole choir sounded better.

He would sometimes have us listen to the different tracks as a group, too, and point out what basses were doing while sopranos were doing something else. Sometimes we listened and then sang it back in short segments. Rather than feeling deficient for needing those audio learning tracks, I started feeling like this was just one of many tools I could use to improve my singing.

Am I a choir snob? I don’t think so. I have enjoyed lots of group singing projects. But it very well might be true that I am a choir director snob. If y’all have favorite choir director habits, feel free to drop us a comment!