I'm really doing stuff, honest!

Choralation has not been on hiatus, I’ve just been busy with various rehearsals and lectures.

Tomorrow is a performance of Haydn’s The Seasons with the University Chamber (not really Chamber) Choir. I’ve got some nice duets and solos to sing and I’ve enjoyed working on the piece. Much of it sounds like outtakes from Magic Flute or Abduction from the Seraglio. Haydn is quite creative in his setting of the rather clunky text. We’re doing it in German, but the English text is even worse. Of course, I’ve developed a nasty head cold and it should be fun negotiating my way through that. That’s where experience and technique will hopefully help me along.

Last week I was lucky to see quite a unique concert by the Neue Vocalsolisten Stuttgart. The group specializes in contemporary music with extended vocal techniques (singing in various non-traditional ways). The centerpiece of their program was Luciano Berio’s A-Ronne. It is completely unlike any other piece I’ve ever heard before. I find it difficult to describe exactly what the piece is, but it is essentially a music theatre piece based on repetitions and variations of a single multi-lingual text. Some of it is sung, much of it is spoken (with one wild dance break in the middle). To me, it gave the impression of watching late-night television and flipping from station to station. You get little snippets of different events and situations (including a tennis match, a cocktail party and what sounded like a send-up of grand opera). Throughout this the text remains the same, so the meaning is conveyed by the inflection and sound of the words and the theatricality of the performers. It really makes one think about how meaning is conveyed and how language is really just a collection of sounds with different inflection. We are having a seminar on Berio next term, and I will enjoy digging deeper into the piece.

I like to share my own personal connection with Berio, which is that I was part of the American premiere of Berio’s last piece Stanze with the Philadelphia Singers, Philly Orchestra and Christoph Eschenbach. After my initial trepidation with the piece, I really came to like it and found it somewhat moving in that it is a farewell piece of sorts. (To me, it suggested the Mahler Ruckertlieder or Das Lied von der Erde, and Berio references Mahler throughout the piece). I’m not sure I’ll ever hear Stanze or A-Ronne again, but I am fortunate to have experienced both.

This past weekend was also quite busy, with a performance of Handel’s Alexander’s Feast with the Yorkshire Bach Choir (a nice piece that should be done more, but is kind of expensive to perform, because of the extra instrumental soloists) and my first services as a deputy (substitute singer) at York Minster. It was a sight-reading extravaganza, but I managed to get through it relatively unscathed.

It also snowed yesterday! None of it stuck, but it’s always nice to see snow. Makes me miss those cold New York State winters!

Just finished re-reading Anne Midgette’s interesting report on young singers in America. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot in the past few weeks as I am adjusting to a completely different manner of training singers.

In both of my conservatory experiences in America, the focus was on creating a "complete" performer, with classes on diction, language, theory, history, acting and vocal literature. This was, of course, augmented by weekly voice lessons, which (hopefully) helped the student to build a secure technical foundation on which to lay all of these other interdisciplinary things. It is certainly true that most singers are not ready for the real world of singing after completing their four year course of study, but they are well on their way to understanding the craft, desire and discipline necessary for a career in this crazy business. It is also true that larger voices had a more difficult time, for they simply needed years in order to gain control over the instrument. I suppose "lighter, flexible voices that can perform a wide range of material accurately" were encouraged, but the majority of 21-year olds do not have dramatic or spinto voices...yet. What Anne Midgette fails to address is that some of these young, light lyric voices might naturally begin to gravitate towards heavier repertoire as the voice ages. I do think you are born a Wagnerian, but you can grow into Puccini and Verdi. Still, it is necessary to foster a good relationship with a solid technician in order to build a voice that can have a long life. Even with all of the intricacies of a conservatory education, it is still difficult to get the amount of attention a young voice needs. Many conservatories run the risk of being singer "factories", where voices are built and rudiments are learned without much care given to the singer developing into an intelligent, thoughtful artist. I think the best we can hope for out of a conservatory education is a healthy start. Let experience, maturity, further teaching and the unique personality of the singer do the rest.

Now I am witnessing a completely different method towards creating musicians (notice I didn’t say building singers). Unfortunately my experience with British universities is somewhat limited since I only have experience at one. Here at York, students are encouraged very early on to create an academic portfolio that suits their individual interests. Students get an allowance for a private teacher, which they may spend as they see fit, being careful not to run out of money too soon. Instead of classes which dabble in everything, students take part in special subject seminars, working on a specific project for a semester. The project could be in Baroque Choral Music, Lieder, Contemporary Music, Jazz, etc. At the conclusion of the seminars, a large written assignment is due, along with a vocal performance of some sort. (This is what I’ve been able to glean about the undergraduate curriculum from the course catalog and talking with other students). The graduate program is similarly run, but with the special subject seminars changing every four weeks. (I should also note that York is on a trimester system. In addition, British universities are only three years instead of four). The student’s written work and performance assessments are chosen by the student and may encompass any topic on which the student wishes to do independent research. So what emerges out of all this are students who have worked closely with very knowledgeable scholars on areas of music that they are interested in, but who have not worked as much on becoming singers. I imagine an aspiring opera singer could find life a bit lonely at York, as there are many singers who focus on early music and choral music. I am surprised when hearing the undergraduate singers here, both because of their innate sense of style and musicality and for the limited technical resources of some. It is also surprising to note some of the knowledge and deficiencies in vocal literature that this specialisation creates. In America we receive a broad survey of different vocal music, but may not spend a lot of time on one period of music until later on. These singers here may handily perform loads of wonderful obscure early music that most American singers would be clueless with, but may also have never heard a Strauss or Wolf song. (I should qualify all of this by mentioning that York is a university and not a conservatory. I expect that life at the Guildhall School or Royal College of Music may be more similar to my experiences in America).
In the end, I think that it is important to survey everything before you specialise, but at a certain point focussing on one’s individual interests helps a musician to grow. This makes a program like York perfect for postgraduate students like me who are ready to be challenged intellectually and pursue specific interests. For example, I am examining composers and performers of the "post-Sondheim" generation this term. I wonder where I possibly could have done that, while still learning about historical performance practice in lieder and the intricacies of ensemble singing.

Sondheim on contemporary opera

"The problem with writing an opera is that you never get a chance to fix it. The way opera companies are run (and one understands the exigencies) you can never get enough performances to fix it. You get five, six, a dozen performances, usually not in a row. In the 19th century, and I’m sure earlier, operas were re-written over a period of time, the way shows are now. With a musical, you have a number of continuous performances whether it’s out of town, before New York, or like here at the National, where you have ten previews during which to fix a play. With opera, not only do you not get enough performances, you don’t get successive ones, you don’t even get a successive cast quite often. So that no scene ever gets set, and as a writer you cannot judge whether what’s wrong with the piece is the actors’ fault or the orchestra’s fault or your fault. The result, I think, is that most twentieth century operas are at best on the way to being good, and the problem is that you simply don’t get enough time. Beverly Sills who runs the NYCO asked me a number of times to write an opera, and I said "Can I get thirty continuous performances?" There was dead silence, and I sympathise, it’s not her fault but an opera audience likes repertory."

-Stephen Sondheim in a question and answer session 5 March, 1990, Olivier Theatre.

Sounds from Home

Last night I had the pleasure of hearing Northern Harmony, an American vocal group from Vermont. The group is known for its diverse repertoire and ability to sing in various ethnic styles. It is comprised of 16 mostly young singers who generally sing without a conductor. Throughout the concert, different singers would indicate a beat now and then or a gesture, but the expression was largely done just through the communication of the performers. The group started with some New England shape-note singing and wound its way through bluegrass (complete with fiddles and dancers!), Bulgarian and Georgian folk music, songs of South Africa and even bits of Pierre de la Rue’s famous Missa L’Homme Arme. In general, the singers sang with a very earthy sound that was very bright, with tight harmonies. There was a large dynamic range though, and the sound varied from ear-ringing fortes to hushed pianos. It was nice to hear American singers sing this music, fully immersing themselves in the vocal styles involved. It made for a very spontaneous, exciting feeling on stage, and each of the performers seemed to be enjoying themselves and sharing musical moments together. The lack of pretense and somewhat informal approach to performing helped break down any barriers between the performers and the audience. Let’s just say it was a stark contrast from groups in white ties and tails and ladies in black with pearls singing highly concerted music. Not that there’s anything wrong with that...