Thinking of regathering in communal song

COVID-19 has been hard on the choral arts. We've felt devastated. Then we felt hopeful as we made our virtual choirs. Then we felt despair when we realized it was going to be long-term. Then-- determined, perhaps? 

But what comes next? How do we transition back? And what are we going back to? Is that what we want? 

I've been spending some thought on how it might look. Of course, it will vary based on each group-- and are they vaccinated? And how much can we "control"? And will we lose singers? And is there a way to keep communal singing? Not just keep it, but nurture and grow it. 

Obviously, my answer is a resounding YES.

We have to think of choral singing in each of its stages: Recruitment, auditions (if applicable), rehearsals, performances and programs, audiences, venues.

Recruitment: How do you recruit? Is social media over done? Put up posters? Outdoor fairs/festivals? How do you convince those who have never sung, or at least haven't sung for a long time, to join? How do you address health concerns? 

Auditions: What do you need to hear/what information are you collecting? Can you hear it virtually? The hardest part of auditions for me was not the time lag, but the fact that it was not possible (as much as I had figured out) to do chorale-type sight-reading. This is an incredibly useful part of the audition for my ensemble that consumes more music. Virtual auditions will still be a way to explore completing auditions for those that are a) at a distance and will be coming in later, b) not wanting to cycle in-and-out of a small office, c) wanting to save drive time.

Rehearsals: What's the physical set-up? 3 feet? 6 feet? Masks? Break after 30 minutes inside?  Outside (do not recommend)? Required vaccination? Will the space need to clear after the rehearsal/before the rehearsal? Will they even be in person or will they be over the internet?

Performances and programs: Will the singers still be physically distanced? Wearing a mask? Can you program the same type of music as before? Do you WANT to program the same type of music as before? Will performances need to be shortened?

Audiences: Will audiences be required to wear masks? Be physically distanced? Be vaccinated? How do you want the choir to interact with the audience?

Venues: Inside or outside performances? Recorded in advance and shared in a performance facility? 

My parting thought is: We also mustn't forget equity. How does equity affect access to a changed or re-imagined choral experience? 

What is performance?

I've had quite a few conversations with my colleagues across the state and country.  What's next?

It's been a process.

My initial response to the semester shutting down was to create a virtual choir (see post from the end of March).  This was a lot work, but I learned quite a bit.  Also, it was an important to have something for the choirs, for the seniors, for all the hard work.

Then I started to think about how to deliver instruction.  Online? Outside in small groups?  Sectional work?  Spend more time building other skills?

But this led me to the performance.  THIS is the crux.  What do the performances look like?  This question matters.  What does it look like for the singers?  For the audience?  How and where is it delivered?  What will it lose if it's all virtual?  What can be done as a virtual performance that couldn't be done in a live performance?  This affects the music performed.

The other thing I've thought a lot about is: What is the choir in higher ed?  Throughout the conversations I've been involved in and I've listened to, it's clear that choir functions differently in different contexts.

And the answer is not a surprise, but choir is about community.  It's about connecting.  And my singers have mourned the loss of their community.  And they don't just miss the singers... they miss the singing with the singers.

And listen, I've thought long and hard about this.  I will continue to think about it.  But all of this matters when we look forward to the fall and beyond.  They must sing somehow.

Yes yes, I'm brainstorming content delivery.  I'm brainstorming collaborative environments and how to support small group singing with my students.  I'm brainstorming rep lists.

But they must sing.

I should always be working

Like many others, I've been trying to be productive, but clearly not staying ahead of where I want to be.  I thought: Ah, to make it easier on the students, I'll reduce their work load for my classes. I'll create a schedule for me and my children.  We will have split childcare duty. I will be able to work ahead on things! Maybe this isn't so bad.

This isn't a "break."  Obviously, we all know that.  I didn't anticipate, however, how difficult it is to try to work a full time (plus) job with two small children.  They require a lot-- mainly because they apparently like to antagonize each other for fun and sometimes get hurt.  And neither I nor my partner are willing to put them in front of a TV all day (although we are allowing for increased screen time for specific purposes).  Come to think of it, even if we did put them in front of a TV, my toddler would be interested for all of 15 minutes before he'd be off doing something else.

I've had to let go of a lot of my work guilt.  A lot.

Do you know that feeling of "I should always be working"?  I thrive on it.  But it also destroys me.  I think I developed it in grad school, where I always felt I could do- had to do- more. However, let's be fair: I enjoy working because I enjoy what I do. It's easy to do it a lot.

On the other hand, I'm a better musician and a better person when I have a little breathing room from "work."  Note: this does not mean breathing room from music. But the music part is hardly work. I call it work. It's really something else-- a mission? Vocation is the word, I think.

I learn new ways to balance every day. And somedays I forget how to balance.

But I do know that I shouldn't always be working.

Virtual Choir-- What kind of issue is it? Or isn't it?

In the wake of schools moving to online schooling, there has been a large number of people asking about Virtual Choirs.  I'm amazed at the conversations around this issue.

First, it seems that some people were under the impression that a "Virtual Choir" meant that you could actually rehearse online.  I'm sorry, but that isn't possible.  It's a disappointment, for sure, but there we are.  Eric Whitacre's team has been working on something (apparently-- so I've heard), but they can't fix the latency of the internet.

Second, a lot of choral professionals have been in discussion about HOW to do a virtual choir.  Everything from making click tracks to creating the conductor track to the software it takes to do the A/V editing to the amount of time it takes.  There have been great discussions about this and a lot of teachers have shared their knowledge and experience.  It's been an inspiring thing to see.

Third, there was then a backlash against the "let's make a virtual choir" folk.  I get it-- there are legitimate questions about the purpose of a choir, the educational outcomes of a in-person choir versus a virtual choir, and the very important "is the time spent by the teacher worth the outcome" question.  I have really appreciated reading these discussions in online forums.  And it's nice to see that everybody's music education philosophy is so robust.  No, seriously-- think about how you feel about virtual choirs, and your belief is likely influenced by your philosophy of music education or philosophy of teaching or philosophy of church music, etc.

BUT (and here it comes), the backlash against virtual choirs seems to be rooted, for some, in ego.  "What is the outcome, really? What are you really providing the students?  A choir is NOT online.  What about X?  But you can't do Z.  You aren't providing a real education outcome-- it's a selfish endeavor-- it's for yourself, not for the students." Etc, etc, etc.  And I cry "foul."  Because a virtual choir is not simply setting up a click track and telling your students to submit you recordings.

But wait, let's pretend for a moment that a virtual choir is ONLY that. Setting up a click track, telling your singers to submit a recording to them singing a click track.  Then you put in 40-80 hours of work (by some estimates) to produce a song that you probably could have done better live.  You share it with your choir and then what?  I'll tell you this: my students love the idea of working on something individually but still sharing in the final product.  No, it's not what they would prefer.  But they what to have something to end this semester on.  They don't want to just... end it.  It's not for you (the listener or the conductor), it's for your students.  And also-- it keeps them singing.

So now let's back up: Is a virtual choir simply having your singers record themselves singing to a click track?  Depends how you set it up.  This is potentially a great chance to give your students multiple weeks of dedicated feedback on their voice and your expectations from a singer.  That will, of course, enhance their musical growth and contribute to their skill set for future choral participation.

And here comes another but to the big BUT (that I typed earlier)... if a teacher chooses not to lead their singers toward a virtual choir project, that's also okay.  I am seeing so many innovative, engaging activities and projects that choral conductors are asking their singers to do.

The moral here is this: You can voice your questions about the educational purpose of an online choral experience, and these questions are useful.  But not if they are posed from a position of ego and conceit.

I, for one, am grateful that there is a sudden outpouring of ideas from choral conductors.  I will take these ideas, I will steal them, and I will share them with my students for when they have choirs.  Perhaps it will encourage us to be more innovative, or perhaps it will teach us to articulate the importance of the communal, in-person experience that a choir is.  Or both.

No posts in 2019?!

Do you realize I didn't post at ALL during 2019?

Also, I've been teaching a huge load.  A retired professor I met in the fall asked me what I was teaching, and when I told him, his response was, "For one job?  You are working two jobs."

So my New Years resolution became about priorities.  Can I give 110% to everything?  The answer is no.  So there are some things I've stepped back from, a few things I've prioritized, and a whole lot of "this is fine-- do not spend more than X amount of time on."

And now, in face of the COVID 19 (as of now, my IHE is still planning on in-person classes; to be updated tomorrow; I'm on spring break), I've re-evaluating how to use my time-- yet again.

One thing I will do if we move to online learning?  Create a schedule for myself and my children while we are at home.  Every day M-F.

Tamales

It's Thanksgiving.

I've been practicing gratitude intentionally for the past week.  Some of it has been on social media as a type of outward exercise, but much of it has been privately.  Because sometimes something rotten happens, and it takes a few hours away from that event to feel remotely grateful for anything.  After a few hours, I can honestly and with a glad heart make a more public declaration.  Those are the easy, social media posts.  What has been difficult is the in-the-moment, child-is-being-stubborn or computer-isn't-cooperating or oh-my-lord-I'm-incredibly-overwhelmed-and-I-don't-get-paid-enough-for-this-stress... those moments.

But then I'm touched by other things.  A friend sends a care package in the mail (yes-- there were tears when I opened it).  A sick toddler who has just been a punk suddenly wants to cuddle and I know these moments will be rarer as he grows, so I take that moment and don't do work (work will still be there, babies grow).  An exhausted spouse sits next to me after the kids go to bed without a computer, and we are able to put away distractions to focus on connecting (it's amazing how we let devices get in the way of communicating sometimes).

Or... tamales.  I have a student who asked to meet with me tomorrow (day after Thanksgiving) to give me fresh tamales her and her family were making.  I made tamales once.  It was time consuming and a lot of work.  Making tamales and then sharing them with your professor?  That's thoughtfulness.  She told me her mother said not to wait to give them to me until Monday because they are always BEST fresh.  Making tamales and then sharing them with your daughter's professor AND demanding your daughter share them while they are still fresh?  The incredible thoughtfulness from this unknown woman is humbling.  I'll write a thank you card, but that doesn't do enough...

I suppose that her response to sharing tamales is a lot like my response to sharing music.  Let's give the best we can, but more importantly, let's be the most authentic we can.  Let's be human.  Let's be vulnerable.  Let's not sing this music as if it's old to us, but rather commit 110% to feeling it anew every time.  That's a tough task.  It's an exhausting (and rewarding) task.

And this is education.  Education is about humans.  Education is music.  Education is tamales.

Scatter Post

So here's what I am actively working on: Balance.  Mindfulness.

It's hard.

That's it.

But wait, I'm also working on being healthy.  And understanding what it's like to take a break from my work.

Here's the problem: When you do a job the incorporates things you love, it's difficult to separate.  That's my life.

On another topic, all of my ensembles are starting to really SING with each other.  You know when an ensemble first starts singing with each other, and they haven't found their groove yet?  All of them are starting to find it.  It's fantastic.

And that's all for today's edition of "scattered brained post."