Choristers sing TOGETHER

From Jesse Buddington: I'd like to borrow Joyce's blog this week to talk about one of choral singing's central concepts - it's something so innate, so obvious, that we rarely actually mention it. It's something so central to choral singing that it makes up half of the name - the choral part. I'd like to talk about the difference between being a good musician, and being a good chorister.

Wait, what?

See, that's what I mean - most people assume (as I did for many years) that good musicians automatically make the best choristers. I experienced that in my high school choir, at San Francisco's School of the Arts. For those of you unfamiliar with SOTA, it's an audition-based public school where everyone has to "major" in an art. When I began attending, our vocal program was filled with the best young soloists the city (and its surroundings) had to offer - pop, rock, gospel, classical, etc. The then-choir director put a lot of the department's resources into small ensembles and individual voice lessons for everyone - better musicians are simply universally better, right?

Unsurprisingly, the choir often sounded like a bunch of soloists who were asked to sing something at the same time. In my senior year, we got a new vocal director who spent a lot more time on group blend and collective decisions within each section and each song. The change in the choir was remarkable.

Choral singing is a special kind of music, and it caters to a special kind of artist. Whereas many artists seek art as a way of expressing themselves individually, still others throw themselves into a collective whole, trying to feel out in colors or chords the strings that bind human beings to one another.

When people can't make group rehearsal dates, I often hear the argument that they'll practice on their own, or with their voice teacher. While this does indeed speak to an artist's dedication, it makes them very dedicated musicians - it does not make them dedicated choristers, because there's more to being in a choir than just being a good musician. There are plenty of musical avenues for soloists; what makes a choir special is the vocal blend, and that blend is only possible through mutual, collaborative work. It's something that can be guided, but cannot be taught(especially not in isolation)- it can only be learned through regular practice with the same group. Every choir makes many, many decisions in rehearsal that simply cannot be replicated or practiced at home.

The commitment-argument holds some weight where an effort is made to organize the whole group or at least members of a section outside of rehearsal, but most people who miss rehearsals end up working on music alone or with their voice teacher (probably because organizing one's section outside of regular rehearsals is next-to-impossible - that's why we have regular rehearsals!). Although these people will continue to grow as musicians, I don't see how they could possibly be as prepared blend-wise as a person who has been at every rehearsal at which an important musical decision has been made - which is pretty much every rehearsal.

To draw the ever-popular sports analogy, imagine that you have every member of a baseball team train alone, with a separate coach. Imagine that they attain Olympic-level physical condition and learn all there is to learn about the game of baseball. Now, put them on a team against a team that practices together every day, and see how well they do. I imagine there will be more than a few dropped balls, if not outright outfield collisions.

When I sing with Continuo, or conduct YME, I sometimes experience this sixth-sense of where everyone is and what everyone is doing - it's a common phenomenon in driving ("feeling" the external dimensions of a familiar car), and that sense transfers over pretty well to choral singing. When you crescendo through a chord, or take a breath at just the right time with everyone else, you experience a sense of collective awareness. It's a wonderful feeling, and I bet that every single boy in CG or higher can immediately recall at least one story of having felt that sensation.

I think it's a huge part of why generation after generation of Ragazzi boy keeps putting in the long hours of hard work to achieve those magic moments.