The Old Songs

My chapter recently concluded its annual show. By most accounts it was one of our best shows ever, or at least in a while. The audiences for both shows were responsive and appreciative. The guys sang well. We received two standing ovations, and one curtain call. Yet listening to the music that was produced makes it all too clear to me where we need to go from here.

We were probably more prepared for this show, musically speaking, than for any other show in recent memory. We got off of the paper in rehearsal earlier than we had in the past. We spent the final month or two polishing up each number. We sang music that was, for the most part, familiar with the singers, having done an Irish show about 6-7 hears ago. So what’s bugging me?

The music vs. the song

For the most part, we sang the music but not the song. We replicated the musical notes and words, but failed to capture the essence, the soul, of the song. Similar to an earlier blog post (see “Singing with Soul” posted on 10/29/06), I heard good harmonies and in-tune singing, but I didn’t hear much emotion.

A knowledgeable barbershopper was asked to critique the show for a program known as “Standing Ovation.” He commented: “The guys need to smile more, to emote more. It was an unsettling and sharp contrast between you [meaning me, the director] and the chorus.”

One of the biggest nuts that I am trying to crack is the notion that a non-competition chorus, such as the MountainAires, just needs to sing well. “We don’t want to do choreography or show emotion. That’s why we joined a non-competition chorus.” Getting the guys to even move during a song has been a challenge for me.

An example

One of the songs that we sang was Don Gray’s arrangement of “My Wild Irish Rose.” I felt that I had interpreted the song well enough to carry the meaning of the lyrics. Yet the louds lacked power, and the softs were weak. There seemed to be little emotion behind the music. One look at most of the singer’s faces and you’d see what was missing. There was no heartfelt expression to the lines: “Some day, to her I’ll propose. And if she will agree, that’s heaven for me!” That line, and many other lines that came before and after, cried out for some feeling behind the notes.

Willingness to be vulnerable

As singers, we need to be vulnerable. A dictionary defines vulnerability as “the state of being open to criticism or censure.” That’s not a state that we naturally want to inhabit. But vulnerability doesn’t mean that you will be wounded (the root of the word). Instead, the operating words are “the state of being open.” If we just allow ourselves to be open to express the emotion of a song – be it joy, loneliness, love, sorrow, excitement, broken heartedness, forgiveness – we can turn a piece of music into a wonderful experience for member and audience alike. Openness, in a safe and protected environment such as the brotherhood or sisterhood of barbershop singers, is a good thing.

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