Singing in Chorus
I just finished listening to Samuel Barber’s celestial “Agnus Dei” that was playing on the radio, and I am almost weeping.
The power of the human voice in chorus can be achingly beautiful. Soaring melodies and harmonies create a sound so much greater than the sum of all the individual throats and tongues. Interweaving musical notes and lines rise to crescendos, sink to whispers, and pull at my emotions more than any other single instrument. I listen and am transported deep within myself, yet at the same time far out into spiritual heaven. Here, in a way that is hard to find in any other place, is the illustration of the harmony we can achieve as human beings. The profound richness of the bass line, the sweetness of the tenors, the soft, soothing harmonies of the altos, and the sweeping glories of the sopranos. All mesh to create a wonder beyond the imaginable when following the right piece of music.
When I sang in the choir as a youngster, both at school and at church, I delighted in feeling part of such a powerful band of souls. As individuals, we giggled and talked about clothes, and boys, and how we would try to stay awake during the sermon. We discussed homework and what was on TV and who was doing what with whom. Then we would assemble under the commanding eye of either the choir teacher at school or the choirmaster at church. And we would sing. An alto, I could sing most of the parts, though some of the soprano notes were just a little too high. I could master much of the bass, much to the annoyance of my older brother, a tenor. But my strength was in the alto, moving in and out of the melodies, providing balance and fullness to the piece. I felt a deep connection with my fellow singers, as we sang an anthem at church, or Carmen with the school. Performing the wonderful syncopated “Rio Grande” by Constant Lambert was a highlight. We moved, we sang, we were one.
If you get a chance, listen to Barber, to Faure, to Lambert, to Bach, to Beethoven, Handel, etc., etc. Listen to the spirit of the human chorus. With this, we can move mountains.
The power of the human voice in chorus can be achingly beautiful. Soaring melodies and harmonies create a sound so much greater than the sum of all the individual throats and tongues. Interweaving musical notes and lines rise to crescendos, sink to whispers, and pull at my emotions more than any other single instrument. I listen and am transported deep within myself, yet at the same time far out into spiritual heaven. Here, in a way that is hard to find in any other place, is the illustration of the harmony we can achieve as human beings. The profound richness of the bass line, the sweetness of the tenors, the soft, soothing harmonies of the altos, and the sweeping glories of the sopranos. All mesh to create a wonder beyond the imaginable when following the right piece of music.
When I sang in the choir as a youngster, both at school and at church, I delighted in feeling part of such a powerful band of souls. As individuals, we giggled and talked about clothes, and boys, and how we would try to stay awake during the sermon. We discussed homework and what was on TV and who was doing what with whom. Then we would assemble under the commanding eye of either the choir teacher at school or the choirmaster at church. And we would sing. An alto, I could sing most of the parts, though some of the soprano notes were just a little too high. I could master much of the bass, much to the annoyance of my older brother, a tenor. But my strength was in the alto, moving in and out of the melodies, providing balance and fullness to the piece. I felt a deep connection with my fellow singers, as we sang an anthem at church, or Carmen with the school. Performing the wonderful syncopated “Rio Grande” by Constant Lambert was a highlight. We moved, we sang, we were one.
If you get a chance, listen to Barber, to Faure, to Lambert, to Bach, to Beethoven, Handel, etc., etc. Listen to the spirit of the human chorus. With this, we can move mountains.
posted by Vicky | 9:31 AM
6 Comments:
I love to listen to choral music. Sadly, no tunes come out of this mouth; the abilitry to sing went straight from grandmother to granddaughter.
I know what you mean: I felt the same when I was watching The Passion of Joan of Arc and listening to "Voices of Light" (I immediately ordered the CD). I will look for the piece you mention here. I can't sing, but I can feel music, and it takes me to the same place good writing does. It is a transcendent experience. Vicky, I love to see you writing this way.
You form a truly lovely analogy here...! Oh, and ps? I love the name "Constant Lambert" !
Vicky--what a lovely post! I know just how you feel about singing in a group. I think it is one of the most moving experiences there is. Even a small group of voices can be so fulfilling. The last 2 Christmases, I've gone out with a group of friends and family to Christmas carol, and it's always one of the highlights of my season. I bet you have such a beautiful voice!
Ah, Erin, I used to have a nice voice, but it has fallen into disuse. I dream of taking singing lessons, and learning to sing like Diana Krall. One day...
Vicky
Vicky--you should do it, if you're able! At present, I want to twang like Loretta Lynn, but that'll pass. :-)
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