• Lloyd Steinkamp, a humorist, terrific musician/arranger, and a compassionate human being. Lloyd taught me how to use humor in music to engage an audience. He also taught me that everything we do on stage is for our audience; it’s not to draw attention to the performer.
• Lou Laurel, the director of the Phoenicians in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Lou was the first man in the Society’s history to direct two different choruses to an International Championship. I model my directing after his excellent example.
• Paul Graham, the baritone of the 1968 International Quartet Champion, The Western Continentals. To this day, I try to mirror my singing and showmanship on his fine example.
• Finally, there was Phil Winston, the man who taught me the fundamentals of directing.

I knew of Phil from his International caliber quartet, the Doo Dads. However, I only got to know him when he moved to Phoenix and joined the Phoenicians. What struck you immediately about Phil Winston was not only his large presence in both body size and in stature, but his smile and impish twinkle in his eye that could light up a room.
Phil took me, an average young guy with a desire to learn how to direct, under his wing and taught me the art of directing. I remember going to his home on a regular basis in the hot Phoenix summers where Phil would teach me directing patterns – 2/4, 3/4, 4/4. I thought at the time how silly and useless this was. Phil understood my self consciousness, and told me how important it was for people to follow. Arm motions from side-to-side are easier for the chorus singer to see and respond to than arm motions from front to back. He was right, of course.

Music Appreciation 101

People may have known Phil for his many years as a Society judge. I remember him more as a quartet man. My favorite image of him is in a comedy quartet that was called Music Appreciation 101. One of my favorite bits was when tenor, Gary Steinkamp, dressed up as an airline pilot with glasses so thick that he had to squint to see out of them. Baritone Terry Aramian dressed as a barnstormer, complete with scarf, leather helmet, and toilet paper stuck to his shoe. Bass Lloyd Steinkamp was in charge of bringing in the plane on the tarmac. In one competition, he would start waving in the plane with his two flashlights before the quartet was even introduced.
Then there was flight attendant Phil with a uniform two to three sizes too small for his large frame. Here was this larger than life man willing to dress up in a silly outfit to share laughter with his audience.

OPTS, POTS, POST, SPOT, TOPS, and STOP

Another time, Music Appreciation 101 donned letter sweaters. Gary wore an “S” for Steinkamp. Terry wore a “T” for Terry. Phil wore a “P” for Phil, and Lloyd wore an “O” for oaf, ogre, or old guy, depending on his frame of mind at the time.
Throughout their songs, the quartet members would stand in various formations, spelling out different words with their sweaters. They never drew attention to what they were doing, leaving it up to the audience to finally catch up to the joke. When they finished the abrupt tag to their hilarious rendition of “Bye Bye Blues,” they would stand in order of Gary, Terry, Lloyd, and Phil, spelling out the word “STOP.” Too much!
Unfortunately, I lost touch with Phil after I moved to Denver in the mid-1980s, but his influence is always with me. Now that I know of his passing, I am reminded of what he did for me and am eternally grateful. Rest in Peace, my friend, and thank you for your willingness to help this young kid become a better man.

We compiled a preliminary list of all recently dropped members, some members whom we haven’t seen in many years, and other inactive (important because we’re not looking to raid other chapters) barbershoppers in our area, and invited them to sing with us on our Holiday shows. We even included recent guests in this list. We made it clear to them that there will be no money changing hands, no fees to pay, no commitments to make, and no costumes to purchase. In fact, there even is no pressure to join the chapter. All we want to do is sing with them. Period. We are only asking for their smiling face, their voice, and willingness to have some fun. That’s it.

The letter

For our first attempt at this annual “Holiday of Harmony” idea, we initially mailed thirty-two letters. Some responded, as expected, by politely declining our invitation due to failing health, no voice, or other physical ailments. But some are excited to be able to sing barbershop harmony once again, and with no pressure.

We tried to make it as easy as possible for them to respond. The letter included a simple “yes” or “no” box to check and return, a separate calendar of November rehearsal dates and December show dates for them to keep, and a self-addressed stamped envelope enclosed. No e-mail here. There’s something special about getting a letter in the mail. In addition, we choose the holidays to do this because the standard carols are probably known by most of these barbershoppers anyway.

For those who respond but decline, perhaps you can offer them a few free tickets to your performance as a goodwill gesture. Once the shows are over (we’re doing two), we will mail another letter to the participants thanking them for joining us in song. It is here where the follow-up recruitment begins. “I hope you had fun singing with us because we sure had fun singing with you. Wouldn’t you like to have more fun like this in your life? You can, you know. We meet on . . .” Something like that.

Try this idea in your chapter, and report back on its success. It doesn’t have to be at the holidays. Regardless of when you do it, you are certainly making a goodwill effort to those who once embraced barbershop as an important part of their lives.

Let me know how it goes for you. And if you want to read the non-recruitment letter that we sent out (you can use similar text by changing the particulars), write to me at editor, and I will send you a PDF copy of the letter.