The search is on for a new conductor of the Carthage Choir. (The adventure with Mr. Noble cannot go on, forever, I’m sad to say.) This week the choir has hosted two of the four finalists for the position, and I must say that the process is a thorough one. Each candidate is being given a full rehearsal with the choir – a chance to teach a sample classroom course – and the opportunity to have lunch with whatever students are available and interested to get to know them better – plus of course a gauntlet of interviews with the search committee. (The only thing missing is a swimsuit competition- maybe they’ll do that in the event of a tie.)
Monday the choir was rehearsed by finalist #1 – a woman from the southeast – and today they were rehearsed by finalist #2 – a man from the south who is actually originally from around here. I of course will not be offering any specific opinions here at all- mostly because I have no intention of saying anything to unduly influence the opinion of the choir members who read this little blog. But I do have a general observation or two . . .
First, what a scary thing to go through! I really feel for the person who walks into that choir room without really knowing the group or their capabilities or even their collective personality. You just start working and probably know almost immediately if it’s a natural match or not. And at that point, if you have the sense that something needs to be adjusted ever so slightly, you have to figure out just what that might be. . . are you being too serious? too cheery? too demanding? too jokey? too scholarly? too talkative? too taciturn? too negative? too positive? or too worried about what they think?
I won’t say who but one of the finalists I think spoke with the choir as if they were a roomful of music majors or at least as though they were a roomful of singers well read on vocal matters. That’s not an outrageous assumption to make, but in fact with the Carthage Choir you have a group of singers that is talented but many of them are not music majors – and even of those who are music majors, not very many of them have read a bunch of books on choral music technique. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing either. It would probably be a worse thing to aim everything at the so-called lowest denominator… There is something to be said for setting the bar high. But I realized that if I were a finalist visiting a college someplace and walking in for an audition rehearsal, it would be so scary to do that without knowing who they are and what makes them tick and what the quickest path to their hearts might be.
One of the finalists, and again I won’t say who, was a bit restrained in their compliments for the choir. As they worked and as I noticed this about them, I realized that in a similar situation I would probably be inclined to do the opposite . . . and that every fifteen seconds I would be saying things like “that’s the most gorgeous blend I ever heard!” or “how did the Robert Show Chorale get in here?!?” And then I would probably catch myself being too gushy with my compliments and would attempt to throttle back and seem a little less easy to please. That’s one of the toughest judgment calls, it seems to me. I learned the choral directing trade under Weston Noble, who is not afraid to say it when he hears something that truly knocks him over. . . while other conductors who are just as competent might be much more inclined to acknowledge good moments with a simple “okay, that’s what I wanted- next we need to. . . “
Maybe the best answer to this sorts of conundrums was given by one of the finalists when he or she was asked to identify the most important thing which they learned from their own college choir director. The person replied, “being vulnerable.” And that’s what this is all about, of course- daring to be yourself with no expectation that the choir is going to fall head over heels in love with you. . . only the hope that they will. Scary scary scary scary scary scary. It makes me relieved that I didn’t try to insert my name into these proceedings. Even standing in front of a group I know very well, it would frighten the gizzard right out of me. So my hat goes off to these first two finalists and to the two finalists to come. . . . and my hat goes off as well to the choir members for being so open, so responsive, so welcoming, so respectful. . . for being the kind of group that anyone in their right mind would love to direct!
P.S.- I do have to say that one of the finalists endeared themselves to me by recognizing me. This person began their time at Luther the fall after I graduated, and they remember me coming back from graduate school to sing for Mr. Greedy’s vocal literature class. I sang the song “Once upon a time” – which I remembered a fine baritone singing on his senior recital during my freshman year – and this person still remembers that, 25 years later. . . saying they thought it was so beautiful. But what they remember even more is what I said to the students about the importance of working hard for Mr. Greedy, who was the kind of teacher who said, when you sang a wonderful sound, “that’s it! that’s it! Now you have to go into the practice room and find a way to produce that same sound all the time.” Mr. Greedy was the kind of teacher where you really didn’t gain very much at all unless you were in the practice room, building on his observations made during the lesson. He was not one to spoon feed. I told those students that I didn’t really learn the full truth of that until i was almost done at Luther, and I was kicking myself for having wasted so much time. And a quarter of a century later, this person still remembers those “words of wisdom.” That’s a humbling thing to know- that there is at least the possibility that what we say in a given moment might live on years and years and years into the future.
pictured above: one of the finalists, who will remain nameless – and yes, those are crutches. The person recently had foot surgery, so they were doing the rehearsal on one foot.