Monday through Thursday afternoons, 3:45 to 4:40, I am fiercely hard at work and having the time of my life – if such a thing can be possible. I am volunteering that time to serve as the pianist for the Carthage Choir and their guest director for the fall semester, Weston Noble. Most of you reading this blog probably know who Weston Noble is and why his presence here at Carthage is such a dream come true for us. In case you don’t – Weston Noble is one of the most admired figures in American choral music. For over 50 years he led the world renowned Nordic Choir at my alma mater, Luther College- and although he just retired a little over a year ago, he remains a much-sought clinician and guest conductor. At that’s at the age of 85. But Carthage, suddenly finding itself in need of a conductor for the year, asked him if there was any way he could come and help us for even a portion of the semester. . . and incredibly, he said Yes to the whole semester, straight through to Christmas Festival.
I knew that I couldn’t settle for being a spectator or less in this historic experience for the school, so I volunteered to be pianist for the choir. (Basically all of my guys are tied up with choir practice, so I wouldn’t be able to teach any lessons then anyway.) Little did I know just what that was going to entail. I find myself in the Ultimate Hot Seat, called upon not only to play the accompaniments for these tricky pieces (one of them flips between 7/8 and 4/4 – and another is in open score, meaning that I have to put the soprano, alto, tenor and bass lines together myself; there’s no accompaniment part for me to read at the bottom that puts it all together for me.) So I’m playing some tricky stuff . . . and on top of just the notes themselves, Mr. Noble is often asking me to play the notes with the proper style. “Now listen to Greg,” he will say, “ and hear how he puts just the right amount of space between those two eighth notes.” And at that moment I have to do my utmost to deliver the exact performance he wants. The first time that happened in the first rehearsal, I suddenly felt like I was playing with baseball mitts on both hands – desperate to play with the lightness he desired when my natural style is to dig into the keys and make a lot of sound!
But as if that weren’t enough, I am also being called upon again and again and again to sing certain parts for the choir. Sometimes he will ask me to sing an entire line- “Greg, sing bass line at the top of page eight – and choir, listen to the way he tapers the end of the phrase.” And off I go, hoping that I can at least approximate what he has in mind. And sometimes he will ask me just to sing one word . . . for example, “Sing ‘God’ and listen, choir, to his ah vowel.” And I will do my best to give him the modeling that he wants them to hear. And most of the time, Mr. Noble- God bless him – will praise my efforts as though Enrico Caruso just sang for the choir. By the way, I think he is making such extensive use of me as a model because he doesn’t yet know who’s who in the choir and who is capable of being a positive vocal model for the rest of the choir. I have a feeling that as the semester progresses, I will be less and less at the center of things. But for now, I’m in the frying pan!
Part of what makes this part of things especially challenging is that I have not been a regular, day-in-and-day-out choral singer since I was at Luther. I am a soloist by nature and there is a big difference between the rich, flowing legato of solo singing and the feathery, bouncy, dancing style of choral singing a la Noble. Fortunately for me, I have been up in front of choirs for a few years now asking for the same sort of thing . . . and it’s amazing how much it’s actually like Riding a Bike. I begin turning quarter notes into dotted eighth notes and it’s like time has rewound to 1981 and I’m back in Nordic rehearsal. Even after all these years.
So it’s a nerve-racking Hot Seat I have inadvertently chosen for myself- which is so odd since normally the piano bench – especially the accompaniment bench – is just about the most comfortable place I can possibly be. This is tough and challenging and by the end of most rehearsals I feel like I’ve sweated off ten pounds.
And there is no place on earth that I would rather be. (To quote a song from My Fair Lady.) And I mean that. I don’t see how I could sit in my office down the hall, knowing that Mr. Noble is making music with the Carthage Choir. And I could content myself with standing at the back and watching and listening, but I think that would be nerve-racking in its own way. I’m glad to be playing a small part in what is unfolding as a dramatic and highly pivotal experience in the history of the Carthage Choir – with one of the master choral conductors of all time at the helm. Where else would I want to be except at his side, helping if I can?
And by the way, I am reminded from time to time that Mr. Noble himself is also in the Hot Seat. He is taking this assignment very seriously and is overjoyed to have such a satisfying challenge before him. (At one point during today’s rehearsal, he talked about “a new lease on life.”) He is also anxious to do as good a job as he can – and I am SO inspired that such a veritable master would still be eager to learn and anxious to succeed. Actually, one thing I told the choir just yesterday is that I am so impressed that NONE of the vocal warm ups Mr. Noble now uses are familiar to me. They are all new. . . which means that Mr. Noble has not been just cranking out the same old same old over the years. He has continued to learn and grow – which may be one of the main reasons why he wears 85 years the way a lot of other people wear 55.
Anyway, life on the Hot Seat is good . . . tricky and challenging and even a bit exhausting, to be sure, but also as good as it could possibly be.