The Fredösphere

Oh dear. They tolerated his clown costume. They forgave his use of Leonard Cohen songs. They pretended not to notice the Hawaiian shirt. But when the new vicar decided to fire the church choir director, that's when people drew the line.

Labels: Choral, Religion

I see my old voice teacher, and now executive director of the American Choral Directors Association, Tim Sharp has recently conducted the premiere of a work for chorus and orchestra. Good for him, promoting new music and all that. The work's harmonic language belongs solidly in the Common Practice period, and indeed, shows no influence whatsoever of any of the various schools of experimental music of the last 100-plus years. Yet there is no disputing the craftsmanship on display; this is not the work of an amateur. (Follow the subsequent link for a brief video excerpt.)

The composer, by the way, was some guy named George Frideric Handel.

Labels: Choral, Composer

More on my favorite mashup, vocal-heavy soundtracks of science-fictional stuff:

Via A Cappella News we read of Gaggle, a not-your-mother's-female-chorus from England with a sound described as "sci-fi riot." Fusty reputations, begone. You can here their heavily post-processed sound at their MySpace place but bewarned, perfect intonation is not a priority.

Via SF Signal comes this animation accompanied by the Schubert Ave Maria (of all things) depicting the rings of Earth—or what the rings of Earth would look like if Earth had rings, like Saturn's. Dang, rings would be cool. We gotta get us some of them rings!



Okay, this last one has no vocal music, but it's futuristic, it's (even better) retro futuristic, and terribly arty: it's the art of Retropolis: The Future That Never Was! Do visit the posters page. Heck, do visit this future! Let's please go there, and never come back.

Labels: Choral, Futurism, sci-fi, VideoClip, vocal

Lately I've been hearing the words of the angel "I bring you tidings of great joy" in strong, phat, masculine, sustaaaaaained chords in close voicings. I hear a men's choir bellowing in that comfortably high area of the voice that is so satisfying to sing in and listen to. I wanted to hear male voices sing "Glory to God in the Highest" and hear them land on an A-major triad on the word "highest." I asked my friend Aaron for suggestions that fit that description and his reaction was what I expected: "that's usually for women's voices." Yes. Scored for women, and usually with plenty of flouncy bounce. I think we have discovered a cliché, and when we discover them, what do we do? We smash them.

Not finding what I wanted in the existing repertoire, I considered writing something myself. But I was running out of time. Should I compromise and pick something ordinary? I received a sign, a word straight from the pulpit when the preacher of last Sunday's sermon urged us to consider the implications of that first command: "fear not!" Perhaps the sheperds were ordered to stop being afraid because they were in the presence of something legitimately frightening. Perhaps these angles were warrior angels. We were asked to imagine a Rambo angel, or an Ah-nold angel. Yes. I can do that.

Which brings me to one of my favorite adjectives: seraphic. A terribly underused word, I think. I wanted to hear an angelic choir purged of all things cherubic and binging on all things seraphic. (And now is time to mention the choir with my all-time favorite name: Seraphic Fire.)

Sunday night, I jotted down a few notes for the vocal parts and came up with a motif for the piano accompaniment. Monday night, starting at 9:30 p.m., I faced the necessity of starting from an empty Finale document, and creating in one shot an entire piece in one night. I much prefer a plodding pace and had never before faced that much pressure. The gamble paid off. By 1:00 a.m. I was done.

The piece is hardly perfect—a future revision would probably need to expand each section, and as you can see in the excerpt below I let slip an embarrassing parallelism—but it achieves all its mission-critical objectives. The men's choir I assembled for this piece obviously liked it. It was written very much for the purpose of being a blast to sing, and that was evident in last night's rehearsal. I gambled that my tenors, none of whom are true first tenors, would not be worn out by the several sustained high-Gs. I was elated when they rose to the challenge. (Alan: you're a star!) Lots of high Gs, but no high As: by long, bitter experience I've learned to live with limitations.

If you've ever sung in a men's choir, look at this part (in 6/8 with 60 bpm), then tell me honestly: wouldn't you love to bellow away at this phrase? Be honest. This is what men singers live for, no?

Labels: Choral, Composition

Via Philip Copeland at ChoralNet, I present Rajaton, a fab six from Norway:



The group's English-version website says "Rajaton" is Finnish for "boundless" but I think it must be American for "wonderfully precise vocal ensemble singing." Here's there tune "Butterfly," with velvety-soft pop vocals:

Labels: Choral, VideoClip

A Cappella News found this video of the Westminster Chorus winning the Llangollen '09 competition, thus claiming the title of "Best Choir in the World." Wales is the home of this competition, rightfully so due to its long tradition of men's choruses associated with, of all things, the coal mining industry.



Despite their name, these are American singers, and the influence of Barbershop singing is obvious. I can't express complete satisfaction with the quality of their music selection—they go so far as to commit Shenandoah—but there's no questioning the quality of their singing, the tightness of their ensemble, or their soulful enthusiasm. No question: a knock-out performance.

Labels: BarbershopHarmony, Choral, The Best Choir On Earth, VideoClip

We had a blast singing that Menotti choral ballet I told you about and the performance went well.  Oh, yes, there was one botched bass entrance, but the audience clearly enjoyed themselves and laughed at all the jokes, proof that they were, one, paying attention, and two, understanding our diction.

I admire this work hugely.  The story telling and dancing ought to make it accessible to almost anyone (yet tragically it is rarely performed).  I do have a few quibbles with it; I think a few places are gratuitously difficult to sing because of changing meters; I find the story a bit too melodramatic, with its misunderstood artist on his deathbed surrounded by bourgeois blockheads.  and musically, I think it suffers in places from weak baselines.

But what is a strong bass line, really?  What characteristics make a bass line stronger or weaker?  I have ideas, but I want to hear what others think.  Please, please, leave a comment.

Labels: Choral, MusicTheory, Performance

The Vocal Arts Ensemble of Ann Arbor, they who lately gave me my latest premiere (of The Moon That Dreamed of Earth) are performing Menotti's The Unicorn, the Gorgon and the Manticore on May 9.  The piece is a bear and illness has left them desperate for more baritones.  In spite of that, director Ben Cohen asked me to join the group for this performance, something I was overjoyed to do.

I first became aware of TUTGATM through the miracle of modern television, believe it or not.  It was years ago, at my parent's home; I suppose that must mean I was in my late teens or early twenties.  No doubt it was a PBS station airing a performance, one that included dancers as is commonly done.  I was blown away by the spastic athleticism of the score (obviously Menotti was not taking his Ritalin) and the theatricality of the whole production—the semi-operatic work needs singers and dancers with a flair for drama.  After that magical night in front of the teevee it would be years before I heard of the piece again (and only lately that I purchased my first recording of the piece, downloaded via iTunes) but I never forgot it.

As you can see from the poster reproduced above, VAE will be joined by People Dancing.  Ben has told me some of his ideas for the performance, which includes dancers interacting with the singers on some level (I'm a bit fuzzy on those details, as was Ben at the time we had our conversation) and I can't wait to see what he comes up with.  You'll also notice Bill Bolcom will get a premiere in this concert also, Lady Liberty.  This will be my first chance to sing something written by the ol' Gorgon himself.  (And I say that with the greatest of affection.)

Labels: Choral, Composer, local

It's amazing what turns up when you do a little research for a science fiction story you're writing.  I was shocked to discover that Prescott Bush, the sire of presidents, was a member of Yale's Whiffenpoofs, the Mother of All Collegiate A Cappella Groups.

Skull & Bones, eat your hearts out (if you have any).  I guess I need to add another node to this network.  And finally, I should remind you people that you're supposed to tell me about this stuff.

Labels: Choral, Conspiracy, Spooky

Garrison Keilor once observed that, every 15 minutes, somewhere in the United States, a choir commits Shenandoah:



Hat tip to The Standing Room.  This is not my favorite arrangement, due to its dominant chord dominance, a Mozartian prettiness that doesn't really belong in American Folk music (or anywhere, but that's another post).  However, this song was the highlight of Chanticleer's 2009 Ann Arbor performance—an unforgettable occasion, like all Chanticleer concerts—and the balance in that unenhanced setting was even better than engineers achieved in this video.

Labels: Choral, The Best Choir On Earth, VideoClip

The Grand Rapids Symphony and Chorus will perform Adams' On the Transmigration of Souls and also music from Wagner's Ring this weekend.  This is an impressive program I wish I could hear.

City Journal wanders into a strange (for it, not for me) neighborhood:  religion in science fiction.  Author Benjamin A. Plotinsky sees the genre shifting away from its more political focus during the years of the Heinlein hegemony.  Hat tip goes to He With Whom I Butt Heads, Gabriel McKee of SF Gospel, who says the article is a bit sloppy (and he has a point).  Meanwhile, McKee also dismisses Watchmen in three short sentences although the movie inspired in me much the same reverent (no joke) feelings that the book did and that completely swamped all my (legitimate) artistic, political and philosophical complaints.  I guess we'll have to settle for snippy snarking until the appeals process culminates with a ruling handed down from the magisterial Eve Tushnet.

Speaking of magisterial, Positive Liberty (how did I find you, PL?  I'm sorry to say I've forgotten) found Allan Bloom in two forms:  on video re Socrates and audio re Nietzsche.

My newest friend is Gareth Stack, a mercurial and intellectually peripatetic Irish being who sometimes adopts the nom de blogge "Professor Byron Frump" who nevertheless dares to call himself "confounded" by my "astrolabe of wingnuttery."  So, Prof. Frump, what do you make of today's goulash of themes and links?

Labels: Choral, Culture, movie, sci-fi

Forgive my lack of self-promotion.  I had a premiere over the weekend.  The Vocal Arts Ensemble of Ann Arbor, under the direction of Ben Cohen, performed my choral piece The Moon That Dreamed of Earth.  And they did a fine job, too, making for a very satisfying evening as it was programmed among a smart set of music on the theme "On the Street Where We Live."  I'll post a recording when I get a copy; meanwhile, here are the program notes I wrote for the occasion:

A solar system is the smallest of small towns.  Imagine a planet may have a mind and a soul generated by its magnetic field.  Unless it has the energy and patience to call across the light years separating star systems, it may choose its friends only from among a small collection of planets:  rocky, Earth-like worlds, who usually die young as their cores cool and the electromagnetic activity within themselves ceases; or gas giants, who are as a rule pompous and self-absorbed; or the Sun itself, whose great magnetic field shouts above all other voices in the language of the stars, glorious but unintelligible to mere planets.

In such a situation the Earth, in our imagination, finds itself tormented by grief and regret, realizing too late its companion, the dead Moon, loved him with a gentle, unselfish love.  Now the Earth spends the eons reading the record of the Moon's thoughts, caught and preserved in metallic lava flows which orient themselves to the Moon's magnetic field and then harden into an "epitaph of stone."

So the Earth loves in return, and mourns, and watches the dead body of his lover as she slowly drifts away in an ever expanding orbit.  If we humans listen, we can overhear Earth's love song accompanied by the repeated notes of signaling satellites as they rise, pass over, and disappear into the horizon.

Labels: Choral, Composition

That's right, just keep telling yourself that these things are "clouds."  Yep.  Clouds.  That's what they are.

Alex Ross dreams of a Messiaenic inaugural, conveniently forgetting just how Nixonian presidential fixations on dowdy, devout French modernists can be.

I got this video from A Cappella News.  These guys make Anglican chant sound actually attractive (ooh, that was snarky):

Labels: Choral, Composer, fun, Spooky, VideoClip

Neal Stephenson's Anathem sits at the intersection of science fiction and choral music, so naturally I'm going to blog it repeatedly.  However, there's more going on with this book (I'm about 70% of the way through its 900 pages, btw) that needs to be talked about.

Good or bad, lovable or hateful, this book is very unusual.  (If it were just an ordinary novel, not SF, I'd have to call it extremely unusual.)  Anathem has the chance to become a movement book.  Like Stranger in a Strange Land and a very few other novels I could mention if I took a while to remember them, Anathem presents a way of life that is very seductive and somewhat achievable.  (Much more achievable than SIASL, where you need to learn how to communicate with the dead and manipulate matter with your thoughts if you really want to get with the program.)

It will take a lot of stars getting into alignment for any significant Anathem monastic communities to get organized.  I'm not saying I think it will happen; only that Anathem is that rare book where such a movement could be even possible.  Plus, it's not like SIASL made much of a mark on our culture, although it did at least introduce one word into common use (common among geeks, that is).  And that's nothing to sneeze at.

Stephenson's goal (if it was a conscious goal) to write a movement book will be helped along a bit because it was inspired by the work of an organization already in place:  the Long Now Foundation.  Stephenson is on video reading from the book and answering questions at a Long Now event.  Cantors in funky robes are thrown in for fun.  The music they sing is inspired by mathematics.  Some of it doesn't really work for me on a musical level, frankly, but it's worth something as a curiosity and a kind of proof-of-concept.  Give them time.  I may even try my hand at it too.  After I finish the 3 or 4 other projects clogging my queue.

Labels: Choral, Culture, Fiction, sci-fi

The black swan strikes: out of the blue, everybody's talking math at me all of a sudden.

Barnes & Noble interviews Neal Stephenson at length, and the links that come with it are very good. Neal's new novel Anathem is all about an alien world where the cloistered monks devote themselves to science and math, not religion. Neal's friend (David Sutz of the Seattle-based ensembles Tudor Choir and Cappella Romana) created chant music inspired by pi, quadratic equations, you know--all the usual math-type stuff. I especially commend to your (freely-downloadable) listening pleasure the "Thousander Chant" with it's contrabass throat singing. Whoa.

Neal creates a special playlist for each novel he writes. I've tried a corresponding trick; I used photos of classical ruins to inspire the composition of some severe chant-like vocal music; the result was a little too ruinous, I'm afraid, and I've never tried that trick since. The intersection of choral music and SF: it's my blog's great theme, and Neal Stephenson is singing it.

Next, we find out about the musical importance of the number 5 as we wander down an Overgrown Path. We'll also meet Pythagoras and the Golden Mean while we do.

Oh, and that business about the swan? Daniel Wolf has the musical connection.

Finally, today a friend emailed me a Newsweek article about certain countries good at producing girls who are high achievers in math. The author concludes math ability is culturally determined, and in a beautiful expression of self-parody, says she's going to "scream" if she hears anyone talk about "hard-wired" brains ever again. I invite everyone to go to the very convenient website of International Mathematical Olympiad results and spend a few minutes with the data as I did. The obvious conclusion you will reach is that boys continue to dominate, and if girls are surging (even if only in select countries) then the effect is subtle. Maybe the metaphor we're looking for is "firmware."

Labels: Choral, sci-fi, vocal

The one headline I did not expect to read today:  Black Bear Busts Secret Utah Pot Farm.

The work of gearing up for the fall season has left me with little energy for blogging.  Today I taught my first choir class for my kids' homeschool co-op.  I'm directly in charge of about a dozen of the older elementary children, plus sharing responsibility with a co-teacher for about a half-dozen younger elementary kids.  I've always been out of touch with the co-op, the Wifeosphere being much more involved, and I was stunned by how many of the children I didn't even know.  Nevertheless, the hour went well, and I'm very glad now to have gained experience working with young voices through giving lessons to my own kids.  By the end of the hour I had them singing The Lion Sleeps Tonight like angels, and I thought I had walked onto the set of a sequel to Les Choiristes--okay, okay, not quite that impossibly good, but still....

My other new effort involves organizing a study group for creative artists within a Christian context.  I have absolutely no idea if this group has a chance of taking off, but I badly want to give it a try.  This effort (for me, at least) is more about making an opportunity for a group like this to exist than succeeding in making it exist.  Ann Arbor cannot be a half-bad place to try, of course, and I'll be advertising the group on two major campuses (University of Michigan and Eastern Michigan University) so we'll see.  I spoke last night to the three other people whom I expect to form the core of the group, and that filled me with optimism.  Also present was the estimable Pastor Scott Geiger of the University Lutheran Chapel, who is cheering us on with cries of "great idea," which is nice.

One core member of the study group is Norma, a graphic artist who also happens to be the Wifeosphere's best friend.  She showed me her ideas for the logo of the group, which we're calling Ex Nihilo.  (I wanted X Nihilo--ooh, that's so trendy, so edgy) but Norma let me know that change completely screwed up her logo idea, so nevermind.  She's chosen a swirl to represent the creative process, which I think it a great idea.  (We both also thought about a potter working clay on a wheel but I was afraid that idea was a bit stale.)  I've talked before about another artist who thinks swirly whenever he thinks creation.

Labels: Choral, Creativity, Design

Whoa, whoa, whoa!  I pour all kinds of creative energy into composing my music; do you really think I have any left over to design original fonts for the score???

(This is on my mind because I just sent out a score this week for a competition.  The music is a setting of an ancient Irish poem.  For the title, I used a free, Tolkieny-looking Icelandic font called Edda.  For the rest of the score, I used the Finale defaults, except for the complete text printed on the first page; the text is so long, I had to use Arial so the tiny letters could be read.  I know what you're saying:  font promiscuity!  ...but that was the best I could do without rethinking every font decision in the score, which I had no time for.  Why, why, why did you people ever get me noticing fonts?!  Cure you, Daniel Wolf!  Curse you, James Lileks! 

I am pleased, however, that M. Wolf and others like Georgia; after an exhausting review of my choices a while back, I settled on Georgia as the most - interesting - yet - commonly - available - and - without - being - too - weird choice for my outgoing email.)

Meanwhile...

What's the greatest choir on earth?  Chanticleer gets my vote.  Richard Morrison (quoted at A Cappella News) seems tempted to nominate the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir directed by Paul Hillier.  He pulls his punch, however, and for the same reason I would:  their programming lacks the brilliance of Chanticleer.  (Maybe they could compensate with better fonts.)

Finally...

The Sci-Fi Catholic demonstrates how awkward confession can be for the anime fan.  It is no easier for the hardcore MMORPGer.

Labels: Choral, Design, fun, Religion

Hangin' with Meridith Monk:  M. C- has the story.

Labels: Choral, Composer

Sorry Don, but this is my topic:  harmonic intervals in all their beautiful, mediaeval purity:



I'd like to see the monk's reaction to some of my yummy minor ninths.

Labels: Choral, fun, MusicTheory, VideoClip

Frankly, if you're going to email me asking for my help and you can't even be bothered to do me the courtesy of placing your apostrophes correctly, don't expect me to call 911 for you.

Here are two excellent a cappella groups to sample.  First, via A Capella News, it's Naturally 7:



This group is so hot, they make their tour bus burst into flames.  Meanwhile, Chicago A Cappella is equally caliente--listen to samples of them singing Mata del ánima sola by Antonio Esévez, Son de la loma by Miguel Matamoros, arr. J. Castillo, and Salseo by Oscar Galian.

My hoary custom of playing Bach's St. Matthew Passion every Good Friday has gradually given way to Golijov's La Pasion Segun San Marco.  I switched because I figured the hot Latin rhythms would be more compelling to my kids ears (plus, they have enough Spanish that they can translate most of it).  What I didn't anticipate is the way the music sets their feet a-dancing.  We compromise, and I make them wait a decent interval, then let them cut loose.  Watching them dance to the Death of God is disconcerting, but their urges are innocent and I think it would be wrong to suppress them completely.

Labels: Choral, SoundClip, VideoClip, vocal

It was too true to be good.  Or something.

Meanwhile...

Roll over, Edison:  some French guy made a vocal recording that predated yours by 17 years.  What is odd, from our modern point of view, is that, although the recording device was invented in 1860, no playback method was attempted (or even contemplated, apparently) until recently.  (Title on the A side?  It's "Au Clair de la Lune.")

Also...

Der Drübermensch and his fellow members of the Boychoir of Ann Arbor were joined in concert by the hoary heads of the University of Michigan Men's Glee Club.  It was a great chance for the boys to hear what kind of sound a 100+ member ensemble can make in a medium-sized church (in this case, St. Paul's Lutheran of Ann Arbor).  Also on display were the ancient customs that give the club it's appealing Gemütlichkeit:  the concert-ending school songs, the use of finger snaps for applause, and especially the elaborate body piercings, especially the wearing of elephant tusks in the nasal septums, which look terribly painful and are probably illegal, but which are worn with panache even when they cause awkward situations in doorways.

Okay, so I made up that last part.  Hey, I gotta give the guys some reason to complain each time I blog them, don't I?

Finally, let me praise the conducting of Paul Rardin, who combines control with enthusiasm (were those his fists I saw flying around?) in a perfect combination.  He offered a miniature seminar on vocal leadership in this one concert.

Labels: Choral, Culture

As Nicola Tesla once observed:  "there are only three kinds of people in the world; those who can count, and those who can't."  I'm enjoying the chorusing sounds of "Finey Lee," the Swedish multitracker.  Finey Lee's Youtube homepage has many offerings, but how many Finey Lees are there?   I especially enjoyed the tag to Scarborough Fair, which reveals the Finey Lee ensemble to consist of a set of identical (very identical) octuplets:



Having sung a few a cappella duets and quartets with myself, I can only marvel at the technical quality of these videos, from a musical and sound engineering POV.  He's also smart to stick to tags for his Youtube audience, especially with the eight-part music, which is compelling in small doses.  Bravo, Finey!   Or Lee.  Or whatever your names are.

Labels: Choral

When ... Worlds ... Collide!  It was a mashup of religion, choral music, and sci-fi (sort of) when William Shatner read from the book of Exodus accompanied by orchestra and a choir of 350 singers.  A live recording of the work, written by David Itkin and performed by the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra, is due for release any time now.  No word if outtakes from rehearsals will ever make it on to the internet; I'm hoping to hear a sound engineer say to Shatner, "can there be a little more excitement during the plague of locusts?"

Labels: Choral, Religion, sci-fi

I spent last evening rehearsing with a local barbershop chorus.  I have a few thoughts.

It is very good for a conductor to spend time on the other side of the baton.

Barbershop is a world that intersects but slightly with the church music world, and even more slightly with the high-brow choral world.  It has a blue-collar vibe that is startling.  When the local director wants his singers to sit down, he yells "sit dooooown!"  The church ladies' perms would curdle if a choir director talked that way to them.

Barbershop groups tend to be somewhat flexible stylistically when they perform, but they are not given that latitude when they compete.  The Barbershop Harmony Society defines what music is "contestable."  I have heard rumors of barbershop's reputation for stylistic conservatism; it is a topic discussed in whispers, usually in seedy bars in third-world seaports.  It is one thing to hear the rumors; it is quite another thing to sit down with the official BHS Contest and Judging Handbook and read its rather (!) detailed, über-geeky rules for chord use:

The dominant ninth chord is used primarily when it is implied by the melody and the melody lies on the ninth.  Occasionally, the ninth may appear in another voice to create a pleasing duet or to create natural voice leading.  Only the root or fifth may be omitted, usually the root.  Use of a chord with the fifth omitted must be justified by a valid musical reason.  If the root is present, it must be voiced more than an octave below the ninth.

They also disallow instruments of any kind.  Looks like a plan to introduce an airplane propeller into my next barbershop composition is a non-starter.

Which brings me to the next point.  You know my agenda is to write music for these guys.  "But Fred," you scream hysterically, "those rules!  They'll stifle your artistic expression!"  We roll our eyes at the rules because personal expression is a Myth that dominates our modern understanding of art.  Then we reconsider, reminding ourselves that constraints often stimulate creativity:  think Rachmaninoff's Vespers.  The truth is that art struggles in environments that are too permissive, but also, in environments that are too restrictive.  There's a region of magical twilight where just enough resistence leads to just the right kind of struggle that results in a satisfying work of art.  That finding that region is difficult is only one more way that Art Is Hard.

I'm going to try writing a contestable barbershop composition.  I won't spend all my time in the barbershop world, but I'm going to enjoy it while I'm there.  I will wallow in lush harmonies and indulge my wildest passing-tone cravings.  One does not fill one's bathtub with chocolate pudding every day, but one does it once in a while, right?  (You do do that, right?  Hello?  Anyone?)

Frankly, I completely get the reason these rules were developed.  Novelty grants a short-term advantage but causes mission creep over the long-term.  These guys want a contest of barbershop music, and they don't want their contest spoiled because some jerks perform a "barbershop rap" or some other abomination that brings the house down and wins the trophy.  (A bronzed shaving brush, no doubt.)  Coney Island Baby:  yes.  Phoney Island Baby:  definitely not.  It's in the nature of things that, over the years, BHS judges were forced to define what barbershop means, in ever more legalistic terms.

If you read the rules carefully, you'll find they include escape clauses.  A little of the vermouth of dissonance is allowed, as long as the important chords deliver lots of the gin of dominant and tonic.  I'll look for subtle ways to subvert their paradigm.  If I'm lucky, I'll subvert it and make them like it.

Labels: BarbershopHarmony, Choral, Composition

Via Cosh, it's the Greatest Classical CD Covers Ever.  Two by two, hands of blue!

Yesterday we had an installation service for the new pastor of the campus chapel.  With all those guest pastors present, and with each pastor wanting to top the others with "brief comments" and "sermonettes," installing a pastor can take a long time, although it ends up taking about 54 hours less time than installing any piece of hardware on a computer running Windows Vista.  (We didn't have to call a help line even once during the service.)

Anyway, my choir achieved one of my life goals by singing Bruckner's Inveni David, for men's choir accompanied by trombone choir.  The first tenor part includes several high B-flats, some of them soft, so to sing that part I brought in my old friend Karl Schmidt, the guy with the ethnically pure name (something that all the people on earth named Frederic Gero Himebaugh are bound to envy).  Karl is the tenor you hear in the quartet that recorded my Superstitious Ghost.

I had a great time with the Bruckner, and other people seemed to enjoy it.  As usual, the large ensemble made for administrative complications, and I was in a foul mood all week as the worries gnawed at me.  I was well to worry, but we made some last-minute adjustments to cover for a missing member, and pulled it off fine.  Still.  I hate the administrative work.  Bottom line:  performing is always almost not worth it.

Labels: Choral