The performance is archived here: https://www.youtube.com/live/qsSzOXTjgqw?si=rN9VROKRT86_RPyZ

When I began selecting repertoire for this concert more than a year ago, I was planning a unique collaboration. Our choirs would sing music inspired by visual art, and visual artists would create in response to the music we were singing.  It would be a cooperative game of artistic Telephone, part of a season dedication to human connection. 

Since then, we have shared stages with the Jacksonville Symphony Orchestra, Amelia Island Opera Company, the Order of Malta, and NASCAR drivers.  When we joined forces with theatre in the fall, I had no idea just how prophetic, We Got Trouble would turn out to be.  When we partnered with creative writing and dance in November to “reimagine” myths and legends, how could we know that our college would soon be playing the role of Jephthe’s daughter?  And when we hosted 250 students to work with the legendary Deke Sharon, 400 two-year college students for the Winter Symposium, and 100 low voices in our TeBa festival, who knew that these would be the last in each series?  Yet here we are.

Nine days before the concert, the administration of Jacksonville University shocked us all by announcing that the entire music program would be closed at the end of the semester, along with theatre, world languages, and many others. Additionally, they fired several tenured faculty members in those programs as well as in the sciences and humanities, leaving majors with 50+ students in the hands of a single full-time faculty member. Understandably, the focus of our concert shifted a bit.

I asked students what we should do, and they suggested that we reprise our favorite pieces from the year, invite alumni to join us, and reach out to theatre to see if they would collaborate. As the students and I collaborated, we agreed on two things. One, we would sing until we could sing no more (literally, thanks to our administration). Two, we would go out in a blaze of glory. The show that resulted included 37 pieces of music, a one-act play (written by terminated theatre professor Deborah Jordan), several student instrumentalists, most of our music faculty, and a partridge in a pair tree. Well, no partridge, and it was an oak tree (more on that later). Each set of music is named for a choir concert or season theme from the last six years.

With so much rep, so many alumni and guests, and so little rehearsal time to “put it together,” I knew this concert wouldn’t be perfect. But that’s OK, because perfection was not what this moment called for. We needed joy. We needed catharsis. We needed connection. Most of all, we needed authenticity. Frankly, the people who caused all of this to happen could use a healthy dose of those things too. I’m not sure they’d recognize “authenticity” if it slapped them in the face.

Authenticity is exactly what we provided. Tears were shed. Laughter erupted. Smiles radiated. Love abounded. Choral music at its core is humanity on display: a unique combination of vulnerability, preparation, confidence, and community. A team working together to make magic happen, and that’s exactly what we felt last Thursday.

Both of our missions were accomplished.

If you don’t have four hours to listen to the entire concert, there are a few pieces that I heartily recommend: 

• The opening triptych, Living Meditation #1, Wayfaring Stranger, Draw Us Near

• Just in Time (navigating the twin plagues of war and ignorance to find resurrection) 23rd Psalm, Blue Phoenix, Vincent, Victimae

• What Was I Made For? (perhaps the best crafted choral arrangement of our generation)

• Flowers—now a direct reference to JU discarding the arts, rather than a disrespectful lover

• Lullaby/True Light—what started as a promise to help someone who was sick is now a promise to help these students wherever their paths may go, with the light of Fran Kinne blazing the trail.

• Call Me But Love/Wake Up My Spirit—how we move forward in times like these

• Painted on Canvas—perhaps the best RiverTones performance ever. Beautifully arranged, sung with nuance and passion, filled with meaning to meet the moment.

• There Will Come Soft Rains—the last piece an ensemble of JU music majors and minors will ever perform in Terry Concert Hall

In preparing for the concert, we discovered and planted some Easter Eggs that I wanted to share before I forget. Think of this as the director’s commentary track. 😊 I’ve also included all the quotations from faculty and graduating seniors that were included on the slideshow during the concert.

Living Meditation #1 is a throwback to the spring of 2021 when Dr. Fahad Siadat joined us as a guest artist and composer-in-residence. That happened during the pandemic, so he participated virtually from Las Angeles, and we learned so much from him. Two lessons from this improvised piece that I’ll never forget were included as quotations on the screen. “If you notice that something is missing, sing that,” and “A lot of music tells us what to do. This piece allows us simply to be.”  It has since become a pre-concert tradition for JU Choirs, but it usually happens backstage or outside. Tonight, we invited our family and friends in the audience to join.

Side note, in the original, Dr. Siadat improvised solos throughout the work, but on a 15-second delay (that’s how long it took for our live video to get to Youtube, then to LA, and for his signal to get to Youtube and back to Jax).

You can find our original performance here for comparison:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0olr29yoUuM

Wayfaring Stranger “In service to the music, we equally gain from what we impart. In service to the music, we share and grow in art, in expression, in community, together. It lives through our students; it lives through our teachers. It is eternal, has no price, and can never be taken away." –Professor John Ricci, Artist-in-Residence; Director of Jazz Studies

Draw Us Near was on the first concert that I conducted at JU, an invitational combining Creekside and Riverside High Schools. This was the closer to the concert, bringing everyone involved together. JU alum and director of choirs at Riverside HS, AJ Neaher has told me that his students asked to sing that song again and again in the years since.

We’ve repeated it for our role as the choir for the Order of Malta Mass of Anointing, and it always seems to fit the moment. Maybe someday, we’ll no longer need to plead for an end to war, pain, injustice, and suffering, but for today, there is Draw Us Near.

“My time in the music department has brought me back to my love for music.” –Noah Ellison, Bachelor of Arts, Music Performance ‘25

That was the fastest tempo we’ve ever taken for Like What You Got. Sorry, not sorry. 😊 This was the first piece Choral Union rehearsed after I received my invitation to a private meeting with the Provost and started putting together what might be happening to our beloved department of music. The singers had no idea what was happening at that moment, and we were just having a good time. However, I couldn’t help but think about the lyrics becoming more and more poignant by the second:  “stop that cryin’, laugh a lot. Just be happy with what you got, ‘cause if you can’t have what you want, then like what you got.”  Take nothing for granted. This work was a reference to the painting, Broadway Boogie Woogie, created by Piet Mondrian in 1942.

Some scholars think that the model for Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa was actually his apprentice and likely lover, Salai. Our choirs are among the most diverse organizations on campus. Many races, ethnicities, religions, sexualities, and backgrounds coming together for a united purpose. Da Vinci would have been welcomed in our choirs. Would he be welcome in your community?  We loved how this arrangement features our beloved and frequent collaborator, Chi-Yin Chen in a style that Lawrence Welk would have televised.

Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy, Op. 80 is a piano concerto with choir that was clearly a precursor to the 9th Symphony. The choral theme bears a striking resemblance to what would later become known as Ode to Joy.

Two words hold prominence in the text: kunst (art) and kraft (power). Beethoven never loved the text he set, so he gave others permission to change the lyrics with one caveat:  “kraft” could not be moved from its position atop the pair of triumphant Eb to C major resolutions. The power and supremacy of art had to be respected.

To this, Annamaria Iglesias, Bachelor of Fine Arts, Musical Theatre ’25 responded with an Ossie Davis quote:  “Any Form of Art is a Form of Power; It has impact, it can affect change, it can not only move us. It makes us move.” 

Professor of Art History, Dr. Laura Winn suggested Pair of Flower Still Lifes by Leopold von Stoll as an example of the kind of art Beethoven would have enjoyed during his life in Vienna.

Infinitus was our first-of-its-kind, student-led, new-music choral collective. The students crafted two sets that each tell stories. The first begins with a warning of impending judgment but then invites us to leave judging to the fates and instead spend our time loving. Beneath the Snow of winter, spring is waiting to burst forth, so let’s just rest and let it unfold.

We also love supporting local composers. Signs of the Judgment was arranged by Mark Butler, DCA at Florida A&M University, and Karen Crane, mother of Infinian Jonah Crane, co-composed Beneath the Snow (and joined us for the premiere).

I Had No Time to Hate, “If you want to be blessed, be a blessing, and you have all been blessings to me.”  --Dr. Jay Ivey, Professor of Voice; Director of Vocal Studies

Beneath the Snow, “A piece that helped me grow as a conductor, and the last piece I’ll ever conduct at this school.”  --Naudimar Ricardo, Bachelor of Music Education ‘25

The University Singers have performed Emma Daniels’ 23rd Psalm several times now, both on tour and on campus. It has never felt more relevant or profound than it did in this concert. We all feel like we have been walking in the valley of the shadow of death. We mourn the loss of our beloved department of music (note the especially powerful statement of “Requiem” from the tenors), but we fear no evil. We find comfort in the rod and staff of music and community. We persevere. Professor of Horn, Matt Monroe wrote, “Nothing worth doing is easy. Keep going!”

The pairing of Blue Phoenix and Vincent speaks to the persistence of art. The equally destructive forces of war and ignorance may establish obstacles, but they will never silence artists, for we are the “creative current” of society. Only the artist can muzzle themself. If anything, roadblocks serve only to make creatives MORE creative. In finding new avenues of communication, we perfect our craft. For us, “Vincent” is a stand-in for the many programs that were decimated by ignorance, and “they” are all who fail to see the value of these disciplines in shaping thoughtful, caring, empathetic citizens. “They would not listen; they did not know how.”  JU was never meant for ones as beautiful as these.

Blue Phoenix “Without music, we live in a colorless world. The students and faculty of the division of music at JU made art for 94 years. It will never end.” –Professor Tony Steve, Professor of Percussion and Contemporary Music. Originally programmed because it sets a quote from a visual artists and references Esam Pasha’s Tears of Wax series.

Vincent “People hate the things they cannot understand.”  --Shrek the Musical; —Natalie Ealum, Bachelor of Arts, Music ’25. Originally programmed because of its references to Van Gogh’s The Starry Night.

Victimae Paschali Laudes again reminds us that there is always hope. Even as the “victim” was resurrected three days later, so too will every artist, faculty member, and individual hurt by these decisions find new life. We will succeed, and JU will regret that they let us go. As Bernstein once said, “This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

We Rise was the closing number from our spring show, Well-Behaved Women. Directed by Kimberly Beasley and Dina Barone, Professor Beasley’s quote provides important context for why we do what we do: "To me, someone making music is the best version of that person. We are at our most vulnerable and performative all at the same time. It invites others to participate in that experience, so it is welcoming. Musicians, keep on being the best version of yourself! You all are amazing. Love you and miss you."

Viva La Vida was inspired by Frida Kahlo and her heartbreaking life story. Despite tremendous medical setbacks, she found ways to continue creating art, even while bedridden. Her last work includes the title of this song and painting written on a slice of watermelon, and it continues to inspire us to this day. To this, I added my catchphrase, “Music  allows us to practice living without the risk of dying.” The stage is the perfect place to take risks. If we make a mistake, nobody dies, but if we hit on something beautiful, our audience might for one fleeting moment experience true living. For this reason, we performers continue to “live the life” of public risk.

Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah has inspired generations of musicians and fans, and this performance was no different. #POJU has said that JU doesn’t expect people who “like to play the piano” to become “nurses or engineers”, but RiverTone Melissa Molano defies his ignorance. As a graduating double major (BFA Musical Theatre & BS Communication Sciences & Disorders), she exemplifies the power of combining a performing art with science. She wrote, "This has always been one of my absolute favorite songs (thanks to Pentatonix and their beautiful Christmas music) so when I found out we were singing it not only here but at Disney World, one of my favorite places, and with my favorite group of ladies, all under the direction of my favorite voice teacher ever, Professor Barone, I knew it would have a special place with me forever. Now more than ever, it definitely does and always will. Love you Tones ❤️"

Jennifer Lucy Cook’s arrangement of What Was I Made For? may be the best crafted arrangement of our generation. Just when you think it’s over, there’s a beautifully unexpected modulation, and the portamento (slides) at the end remind us that even the ground beneath our feet can shift at any moment. Both its text and Cook’s setting remind us to take nothing for granted and fully engage with every joyful moment. It could be our last. Professor of Classical and Flamenco Guitar, Dr. Brian Luckett’s words are especially powerful in this context: “There will be times in your life when your passion for your art is all you have. It will be enough to carry you through.”

We’ve performed Flowers several times this year, casting it as a jilted lover realizing that the other person never really cared about them, and more importantly, that they never needed the other person in the first place. In this show, we used it as a statement made directly to the JU administration. Recognizing that they have never valued our contributions, we’re going to buy our own flowers now. We sincerely hope that they never again have live music for their VIP holiday parties, commencement ceremonies, and donor events. They’ve taken musicians for granted for far too long, and now the find out stage has arrived. “We were good, we were gold, the kind of dream that can’t be sold.” This kind of self-actualization echoes a song lyric that Dr. Marguerite Richardson, Director of Orchestral Activities, recommended:  “Home—build it behind your eyes, carry it in your heart, safe among your own.” —James Taylor, Enough to Be on Your Way

Demon tells the story of a man who was so dangerous, the faculty—I mean, the community tried to restrain him, but he broke every chain and kept escaping. Then, a different kind of person was able to help him see life differently, and his life was changed forever. May the “demons” on our campus find a similar transformation.

Demon was originally included on this concert because of its graphic notation—a beautiful combination of music notation and visual art.

I programmed Testament of Freedom for our final TeBa Day as a reminder of the ideals upon which our nation was founded. Jefferson’s text now includes considerable irony, especially the idea that the US would always be able to pull Europe out of despotism (hopefully, the EU will be able to do that for the US).

In recent days, we’ve discovered that JU is a microcosm of the culture in which it exists. A despot has consolidated power, ignored the advice, requests, and will of the faculty and students he claims to lead. He has gathered a board of sycophants who have made one poor decision after another for many years, and now that the receipts are catching up, he eliminates the lowest-paid professors on campus to cut costs. Never mind the fact that the entire department of music (salaries, benefits, concert budgets, etc.) cost roughly the same amount as ONE president’s salary, or that our president is paid more than all but two university presidents in Florida (and think of how many HUGE universities there are in Florida), or that he is paid more than the president of Northwestern University, a school whose student body is more than five times larger than JU’s. Did he take a pay cut? No. Did his “cabinet” take pay cuts? No. Just the faculty who have poured our blood, sweat, and tears into this institution for years. The people who did all the right things, followed all the rules, did over and beyond what we were asked. Those are the people who were fired for the President’s mismanagement.

Taxation without representation, anyone?  But we will not go “without a hope that light and liberty are on steady advance.”  What is our hope? 

“The flames kindled on the 4th of July, 1776, have spread over too much of the globe to be extinguished by the feeble engines of despotism (JU’s war on art); on the contrary, they will consume these engines and ALL who work them.”

Hark I Hear the Harps Eternal is a classic for a reason. Alice Parker’s arrangement is joyfully exhilarating, and I’ve taught it to every choir I have ever led with the explicit instruction that it is to be sung at my funeral (and hopefully many more times between now and then). It speaks of a grand reunion in the next life, and given what has happened at JU, it also describes the artistic pursuits that will inevitably follow this setback. Nothing would make me happier than being able to share many future stages with these students, graduates, and colleagues.

Lullaby has worn many hats this year. I originally wrote it several years ago as a promise to my now husband when he was very sick one night, but I thought it needed another verse to be useful as a song. So it sat in a drawer as a personal gift to him that I’d mention or sing every once in a while.

Then, his sister grew sick, and he spent much of last year taking care of her in Mexico City. We had never been apart for more than a couple of days since our first date, so this was traumatic for us both. When I went to visit over the summer, I saw such tremendous love shared among his family. People giving their time, money, and sanity to battle a government bureaucracy and support their beloved sister, and I was once again reminded of the song.

That group love inspired me to translate the song into choral form. Once completed, I proposed it to my dance colleagues for our Myths and Legends collaboration as a representation of Orpheus not wanting to give up on Euridice. We spent the first week of classes roughing in notes and rhythms so the dancers would have something to choreograph, and that’s when our singers started connecting in ways I never expected.

Anna’s brother had recently passed away, and she credits this song with helping her to process that experience. She wrote the unbelievably poignant quote shared during the concert:  “In the deafening silence of grief, music becomes the voice of what we cannot say – wrapping sorrow in melody until the heart remembers how to feel again.” 

My aunt and grandmother passed away shortly before the semester, and her experience helped me to reflect on that loss through this song. Then, Professor Christina Teague-Mann, a choreographer for Myths & Legends told me that she connected the work to the recent death of her husband.

In every performance, the biggest challenge has been to finish the song without breaking down in tears. In fact, I elected to accompany the choir not because I could play it better than Stephen Chapman (indeed, I played a couple of stinker notes during the show), but because sitting at the piano allowed me not to make eye contact with the choir, and that was the best insurance against all of us breaking down in tears halfway through.

Now, it stands as a testament to one another that despite all that has happened, we will seek and find support in one another, in our alumni, in our families, in our community of artists. “Love is not a sometimes thing, and love is not just for today, but for a thousand sunrises, and many thousands more, I pray.”

True Light reminds us that inspiration lives within each of us. In preparation for this concert, Dr. Fran Kinne has been our north star. An accomplished pianist (here’s a video of her playing beautifully at age 93), founding Dean of the College of Fine Arts, and former president of JU, she added many programs across campus while also growing and supporting the arts. Our current #POJU loved to bring her out for photo ops while she was living and regularly invokes her legacy when it suits him. However, we now know that he didn’t learn anything from her example. I feel like he saw her as a prop instead of a mentor, especially since he has so desecrated her legacy. Nevertheless, our students will not forget her example. As our Recording Studio Director, Professor Jason Perry wrote, “In a world of Tim Costs, be a Fran Kinne.” Note that the three soloists are Theo Austell, first year BFA Musical Theatre, Julian Morris, graduating senior in Music Business, and alumna Jade Perry in Vocal Performance.

One Day More comes from a show that describes how we’ve felt for the last couple of weeks:  Les Miserables. A couple of lines took on new meaning in this performance. Thinking about how music and art have forged a beautiful community: 

·        “I did not live until today. How can I live when we are parted? Tomorrow you’ll be worlds away, and yet with you my world has started.”

·        Thinking about how #POJU thinks about musicians: “One more day with him not caring, What a life I might have known, but he never saw me there.”

·        Following the many student protests: “Do you hear the people sing?”

·        Thinking about the future: “Tomorrow, we’ll be far away, tomorrow is the judgment day. Tomorrow, we’ll discover what our God in heaven has in store. One more dawn, one more day, one day more!”

The second set from Infinitus takes us on another journey. Fire and Ice reflects on how the world might end—the fire of selfishness (desire) or the ice of hate. Again, JU serves as a microcosm for our world. The president makes $1.2 million a year but destroys the income and careers of 50+ faculty members who each make a fraction of that, while simultaneously disrupting student careers as well. We know which path of destruction he prefers. However, we will choose differently…

Graduating Senior, Daisy Howal-Raymond summarizes Fresh Fruit beautifully in her quote:  “Fresh Fruit was originally dedicated to the Latino community and their resilience through hardship. This spirit of strength and renewal resonated deeply with me. As a senior in the final class of JU's Music Education program, this piece has taken a new meaning. It's a reminder that even in the face of disappointment and uncertainty, we have the power to choose what we pass on. Like the communities it honors, we endure, we heal, and we offer something better to those who come after us. Only fresh fruit. Only sweet hope.”

In hope, we find love, something Voice Professor and the RiverTones’ Director echoes through Shakespeare:  “If music be the food of LOVE, (students), play on.”  Given the larger context of the event, don’t miss that this performance of Call Me But Love was the conducting debut for Nickolas Kepe, Junior BFA in Musical Theatre.

Finally, Wake up My Spirit got us all hyped up. We started learning this piece in the fall but couldn’t quite get it together. It has continued to challenge us, prompting graduating senior and conductor Sabrina Tompkins (Bachelor of Music Education) to write, “This piece has been a beautiful challenge for me and Infinitus. It stretched my abilities as a teacher and challenged me to think in new ways. I am honored to conduct it, and I think the text and spirit of the piece are appropriate in this time. As a child of God, the text speaks to the idea of letting our spirits soar higher than the brokenness of the world. We stand together as a music community and will let our spirits soar and sing the melody of awakening and rising up amid our struggles.”

My Shining Hour was inspired by a quote from Winston Churchill:  “Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, ‘This was their finest hour.’” Churchill was also a painter, and though prolific in his youth, he completed only one work during World War II: Tower of the Koutoubia Mosque, projected during our performance. Dr. Shannon Lockwood, Professor of Music, Violoncello encouraged our students, “There will always be reasons to not be extraordinary. Stop and eat a cookie, then be extraordinary.”

The RiverTones have performed Turn the Beat Around several times this year, including for Deke Sharon at last year’s contemporary vocal festival, at Disney earlier this spring, and now as our world has been turned around. The first quote from Professor Ted Shistle, Director of Bands, made perfect sense:  “I get knocked down, but I get up again; you’re never gonna keep me down.” —Chumbawamba, 1997

I was struck by the joy of their performance and the strength of both soloists, but when the audience started clapping, Shistle’s second quote became especially meaningful. “In a world where there is so much noise, I am reminded of a question posed to us in Dr. Richard Madsen's Behavior Modification course, 'Who claps for you? We are each endowed with the power of choice in this matter and nothing or no one can take away our right and responsibility to determine the applause that resonates within our hearts and minds."

Perhaps the most artistically and aesthetically meaningful work on the program was Painted on Canvas by the RiverTones. This was the only time they have or ever will perform this work in public, and the audience was blessed to hear it. I’m not sure if the recording can fully capture the moment, but between the spellbinding soloists and immaculate harmonies, the spirit in the room was intoxicating. One of the soloists, graduating senior Imani Williams (Bachelor of Arts) reflected, “I love that this song reminds us of the role we have in shaping each other’s lives. It inspires me to be more mindful of my contribution to the canvases surrounding me.”

Painted on Canvas was programmed because of its title, but also because it references the painters Romare Bearden and Archibald J. Motley, Jr. Jammin’ at the Savoy, Out Chorus, Blues, and Gettin' Religion are excellent exemplars of their work during the Harlem Renaissance.

For Good from Wicked has long been a favorite for graduation ceremonies and a part of the RiverTones’ signature spring sing concert. It celebrates the impact we have on one another. In the current context, it is also a refutation of #POJU’s words that “people aren’t coming to JU for these majors” and that these majors are “not ones we do well.”  RiverTones alums drove long distances to be a part of performing this perennial favorite one last time, and if that isn’t enough of a testimony for you, consider these words from our graduating seniors:

·        “This program healed me. The friendships I’ve made are lifelong, but we are who we are because of our fearless, strong, caring, compassionate leaders. Than kyou, faculty, you have without a doubt changed us ‘for good.’” –Sylvie Watkins, Bachelor of Arts, Music

·        “Music can change the world because it can change people.” –Maya Hamilton, Bachelor of Science, Music Business

·        “This program has changed me for the better.” –Haley Munoz, Bachelor of Science, Music Business

Putting It Together was the original inspiration for our concert at the intersection of visual art and music. Sondheim’s Sunday in the Park with George stands as a treatise from one of America’s greatest composers reflecting on the life and struggles of being an artist. The first act describes someone so focused on their art that they forget to cultivate relationships and live life penniless and alone. Even so, they create one of the most iconic works of art in history (Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grand Jatte). The second act describes an artist so focused on cultivating relationships and making money that he forgets about making meaningful art. In that tension, Sondheim reminds us that art isn’t easy, and that finding balance is what makes it possible, profitable, and fulfilling. Graduating senior Alyssa Stark (Bachelor of Music, Vocal Performance) chose to highlight another line from the show: “I chose and my world was shaken. So what? The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not. You have to move on.”

On a personal note, this show has counseled me through many tough moments. When I decided to leave a stable job to pursue my doctoral degree, I was chorusmaster for a production of SITPWG. Before I had told anyone I was leaving, I had to play two weeks of shows, and every night during Move On, I was weeping. Later, when I decided to take another risk and leave Curry College for a visiting professorship at JU, the very lines Alyssa quoted became my mantra. This week, “This is the state of the art” has become something of a rallying cry as my tenure-track position has been eliminated.

Truly, art isn’t easy, but it is powerful.

There Will Come Soft Rains ended our fall collaboration with the Dance Department, Myths and Legends. In that show, it was a warning about environmental stewardship. The text teaches us that after humanity destroys itself, nature will recover and never remember that we even existed. However, we sang it in this concert with a couple of different perspectives. First, it is a warning to JU to be careful what they wish for. They may think that they (like nature) can move on without us, but we think they will come to regret their choice in the not-so-distant future. A life without skilled artists and musicians gets boring in a hurry. Secondly, as I said before, art cannot be silenced, only temporarily diverted. Thus, we artists are like nature—the thing that will long outlast presidents, boards, and financial mismanagement. We will get the last laugh (or insult), as we always do. Graduating senior (BFA Musical Theatre) Ty Lyn’chelle Westmoreland rightly points to Plato: “Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything.”

Finally, we left the room to sing our beloved alma mater one last time “under the oaks” and under the stars. That video is floating around social media, but the cameras couldn’t follow us outside. It wasn’t our most polished performance, but that’s understandable when just about every singer was sobbing between syllables. This institution has been our home for 94 years—the music department has been accredited by NASM for three years longer than JU has existed, and the poor financial decisions of the current administration cut short our journey together. Unfortunately, these graduates and students of JU Music will no longer have a physical college home. Instead, I told them that home will be wherever they are—especially when they are able to gather together—because no one can take way the memories made or the lessons learned during their time here. Also, this campus will never again hear the alma mater sung by an accomplished choir of professional students. We own the song, and it will always live in us.

Let me say that the nine days between bloody Tuesday and State of the Art were a lot like the week between a death and a funeral. I say that having experienced two very difficult deaths and two very difficult funerals last summer. Initially, we were all in shock, and then that turned into grief. Then, we were in full planning/preparation mode 100% focused on the funeral, I mean concert. Those four hours were truly euphoric. We saw and felt raw emotion in sound—love, joy, anger, heartbreak, excitement, judgment—the full spectrum of human experience laid bare on the Terry stage. Every round of applause felt and sounded more vibrant than the last, even as the audience shrank with each intermission. It was an evening that I never wanted to end, both because it was so much fun, and because when it was over, it would be over forever.

Indeed, the morning after the concert was far more difficult than any of the days leading up to it. So many posts recapping what happened, videos of favorite moments, descriptions of the meaning we made together… Every post I read made me weep with what we had all lost—what our city has lost. I honestly don’t know where my next steps will take me. I’ve submitted a few applications, but opportunities in higher ed are exceptionally limited at this time of year. I may spend a year freelancing and helping Ariel with his business before applying again in the fall. In the meantime, I’m grateful for the amazing six years JU afforded me. I’ve taught some amazing students, created unforgettable music and memories, premiered more new works than I can count, spoken truth to power, challenged the norms and expectations of choral music, and—if my students can be believed—changed more than a few lives (hopefully for the better).  😊

At the end of the day, that last bit is what matters most about this concert and about everything we do. If we aren’t improving the lives of people we meet, then maybe we should do something else. If our choices bring more harm than good to people, why make them at all? If we choose to live in a mansion and accept a million-dollar salary while firing employees with mortgages to pay and children to feed, how can we sleep at night? I know I wouldn’t be able to do so. “Let them eat cake,” is what monarchs say, and it should have no place on a university campus. Nevertheless, all I can do is move forward, and that will be my goal.

The oaks of Jacksonville University are older, more beautiful, and wiser than the people now leading the campus. I will miss walking under them every day, but I will miss making music with an amazing community of colleagues and students far more. I wish them careers as hardy and successful as the live oak in front of Terry Concert Hall, and I can’t wait to hear of their many accomplishments.

Fiat lux!

PS. Waffle House at 2 AM is fire.

But it's not yet over. Nothing is over. In fact, we're just getting started.

But this sorrow and rage will not inflame us to seek retribution; rather they will inflame our art. Our music will never again be quite the same. This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before. —Leonard Bernstein

This weekend, the great Deke Sharon (you might have heard of his movie, Pitch Perfect) is making music with two hundred singers from across the region, and tonight, they present an epic concert, including the premiere of his latest arrangement, Flowers. (His Music for a Sushi Restaurant is my favorite for the mass choir, though.)

Our audience is guaranteed to laugh, tap their toes, bop along, and have a great time celebrating the joy of music. However, in the grand choral tradition of my mentor Dr. Jeff Johnson, we're gonna make 'em laugh and make 'em cry.

The RiverTones, who are doing an epic job of managing this event, are singing Jennifer Lucy Cook's arrangement of What Was I Made For from the Barbie movie. I'm told that they couldn't finish it when they rehearsed on Wednesday, because of its poignancy for sixteen young women surviving in our current world. Tonight, I sat in on their rehearsal at the end of a long day, and I too found myself falling apart.

I don't know how to feel, but I wanna try...Think I forgot how to be happy, Something I'm not, but something I can be...

The other tearful opportunity on the concert is a bit more personal for me. You see, ten years ago, I met the most amazing person. He was funny and sweet, caring and charming, and to my surprise, he liked me. A few months later, we spent the night in the ER together as he wrestled with the worst case of food poisoning either of us had ever experienced.

After that anxious night, I started writing a lullaby. Something to help him relax, just to know he was loved. The first verse and chorus came easily, but then nothing. I had no idea where to go next. So I'd sing for him what I had every once in a while, and he'd say, "That's nice" and then I'd put it away. Every now and then I'd think about it, but the second verse refused to materialize.

Then, in March of this year, Ariel went to México City to help his sister navigate the beginning stages of dementia. Whe had never been apart for longer than a day or two, so a couple of weeks apart was a bit scary. And then the weeks turned into months as bureaucratic hurdles kept creating new challenges. I went down for a visit in July, and the song came back to my mind. Maybe it doesn't need a second verse. Maybe it just needs a different setting.

Sitting in his sister's dining room, I thought about the love Ariel has shown me, but also the love he has invested in his family. Sending clothes to his cousins, paying for his brother's education, supporting his parents, and now devoting months of his life to a sister who will literally never remember what he did for her. I was sobbing before I had finished the choral arrangement.

It's a simple song, almost too simple. I thought I was just overly sentimental (as I usually am), so I brought it to the University Singers for a second opinion. The notes and rhythms solidified in a couple of weeks, but then the waterworks started flowing. A lost brother, aunt, and grandmother, family tensions, breakups, new relationships, everyone had a connection. Just about every time we've worked on it, someone has had to step out to regain their composure. I just barely held myself together during Thursday's rehearsal. We have much to mourn, but in community and relationship, we find our reason to persevere.

Love is not a sometimes thing, and love is not just for today, but for a thousand sunrises, and many thousands more, I pray.

Look, something tells me that some of my friends could use some good cheer. Maybe also a tearful catharsis. I often say that music allows us to practice living without the risk of dying, and what better way to practice living than to let your emotions loose?

We as a society may have missed an opportunity to thrive, but I believe music and love will help us to do far more than simply survive. Just as Bernstein found hope following the death of his beloved friend and President Kennedy, we must find (and create when necessary) hope following the death of opportunity.

This has been a week.

But it's not yet over. Nothing is over. In fact, we're just getting started.

If you're nearby, join us in Terry Concert Hall at 7:30. If not, tune in via the livestream.

PS. We are also performing Lullaby on the Dance Concert next week with beautifully relevant choreography by Christina Teague-Mann, so if you miss the a cappella version tonight, join us next week for the version with string quartet and piano.

See the score of Lullaby here: https://julianbryson.com/lullaby

Students who struggle to match pitch (I sometimes call them “Free Spirit Singers”) present special challenges for choir directors at all levels. On the one hand, we want to invite as many students as possible into musical experiences, but we also want to ensure a high level of success for our choirs as a whole. How is it possible to bring students who struggle with this most basic element of music into the choral music family without detracting from the experience of other choir members?

Before I attempt to answer the question, allow me to share a personal experience. A very dear relative of mine was told at a young age that she couldn’t sing. To this day, she still refuses to even try. Similarly, when I started taking piano lessons (at age 8), I planned to come home and teach my mother what I learned each day (she also wanted to learn to play). During the very first attempt, I said, “Mom, you just don’t have it!” She has never let me forget those words and has never allowed me to fix my mistake.

The truth is, our words have power for both good and evil, and will bless or haunt students for many years after they leave our classrooms. This is magnified due to the personal nature of the voice—we can’t buy a new voice as one might buy a new clarinet, so any perceived insult regarding the quality of a voice can scar a young person for life. Phrases like “just mouth the words” or “don’t sing this song/concert” can have profound, long-term effects on a student’s musical journey.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. I have yet to meet a single person who wanted to learn to sing, but couldn’t. With unceasing positivity, some one-on-one training (even five minutes once a week can have an impact), and a solid work ethic, no one is a hopeless case.

The key is to look for root causes, of which there may be many. A Free Spirit Singer may not understand our terminology; perhaps they don’t have the proper concept of “high” and “low”. To find out, ask them to sing or use a piano to demonstrate a high pitch or a low pitch. They may have an issue with hearing or processing auditory information. Play or sing two different pitches, one after the other, and see if they can tell you which is higher. Start with wide leaps before bringing the two notes closer together.

They may have problems with discerning changes in pitch. Ask them to sing a note (always start with where they are, not where you want them to be) and then match them (this is a great time to make sure they actually understand the term, “matching pitch”). Move to a slightly higher or lower pitch and see if they follow you. Ask them if they recognized a change in pitch. With success in close ranges, progress through larger intervals.

Other students may have difficulty concentrating, and changes in classroom management techniques could help. For those with short-term memory or audiation issues, encouraging students to think the pitch before they sing it can develop these skills over time. Some voices may struggle to match pitch simply because they are changing and what used to work no longer does. In my experience, breathing and vocal production are the most common culprits, and regular, traditional vocal training will gradually fix the problem (again, individual instruction will prove most beneficial in these cases). Finally, vocal damage is a possible cause even for very young students, and suggesting that these students visit a speech therapist is the best option (but be careful not to diagnose anything—that isn’t your responsibility).

In closing, I offer my ten commandments for helping Free Spirit Singers:

I. Thou shalt NOT call a “skill” a “gift”. Neither shalt thou call it a “talent”.

II. Thou shalt NOT ask a Free Spirit Singer to match a note on the piano.

III. Thou shalt NOT ask a Free Spirit Singer to match a note you are singing.

IV. Thou shalt NOT ask a Free Spirit Singer to “lip-synch”, “not sing”, “sing quietly”, or “sing silently”.

• This even applies to the most important concert of the year.

V. Thou shalt NOT diagnose medical conditions.

VI. Thou SHALT find ways to work individually with free spirits.

VII. Thou shalt ALWAYS be positive and encouraging.

• Being a free spirit is not a disease. It is a skill that hasn’t yet been learned (just like spelling, calculus, or rocket science).

• Even the slightest improvement should receive the loudest praise.

• Praise the work, not the ability.

VIII. Thou shalt analyze possible root cause(s) before attempting to treat symptoms.

IX. Thou shalt make a plan for strengthening skills and overcoming challenges.

X. Thou shalt prepare Free Spirit Singers for a long journey of hard work.

• No sugar coating. Anyone who wants to learn to sing can learn to sing, but they must be willing to work at it.

In January of 2003, the University of Tennessee Concert Choir began learning Frank Ticheli’s There Will Be Rest.  For me, it was a beautiful work that took on even greater meaning when we sang it on February 3, just two days after the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster.  I found it almost impossible to pronounce Sara Teasdale’s text:

There will be rest, and sure stars shining

Over the roof-tops crowned with snow,

A reign of rest, serene forgetting,

The music of stillness holy and low.

I will make this world of my devising

Out of a dream in my lonely mind.

I shall find the crystal of peace, – above me

Stars I shall find. 

Unbeknownst to my colleagues, these words had already taken root in me for other reasons.  Deeply closeted and desperately afraid of being honest with the world, I longed for a heavenly future, free from the challenges of this world, where I would no longer be plagued by my secret identity. 

In the mirror, I saw pain and self-hatred.

Throughout that semester, I sang the words “I will make this world of my devising” as a commitment to change the unchangeable.  I would “pray the gay away” at all cost.  Meditation, study, conferences, whatever it took.  The angry, judgmental god I worshiped would either fix me or kill me, and until then, I would live in silent shame.  Obviously, these were some of the darkest, hardest days of my life, but thankfully those days were not eternal.

Sixteen years later, I returned to Ticheli’s work with the Jacksonville University Singers, approaching the piece as musical counterbalance to Veljo Tormis’s infinitely dark and righteously disturbing Raua Needmine (“Curse upon Iron”).  Shortly after beginning rehearsals, memories of my time at UTK came flooding back, but now with new perspective. 

A reflection is anything but permanent.

In the intervening years, God did “fix” me, but not in the way I imagined—isn’t that usually how it works?  Instead of changing who I am, He changed my perspective.  He taught me the difference between tradition and truth, transforming my opinion of Him from Angry Judge to Compassionate Healer.  My journey brought me to drag queens and pastors, rabbis and linguists, revolutionaries and revivalists, and at the end, I found love and peace like I had never known before. 

In the mirror, I now see love.

God loves.  God is love.  God invites us to love each other as we love ourselves.  In fact, I’ve discovered that it’s impossible to truly love others when we begin by hating ourselves.  Shout out to RuPaul for preaching and living this truth without compromise. 

Now that the Jacksonville University Singers have performed There Will Be Rest a few times, I find tremendous joy in sharing with them the hope inherent in Teasdale’s words.  Not from a theological perspective, but from the perspective of sharing life together. 

I invite them—and all who read this—to see my story as a testament to the power of hope and the unceasing changes of life.  When we focus on building community and lifting one another up—as so many others have done for me—life gets better.  When we do this in the context of music, we enhance and amplify our connection to one another.

This is why I keep returning to the mirror.  This is why I sing.  Music is a mirror.

In the mirror, I will see…

Yesterday, I was far more surprised by another award.  Curry’s Excellence in Teaching Committee recognized me for “Excellence and Scholarship in the Field”.  They cited my two recent commissions—Stars Beyond and The Field (Ubi caritas)—organizing the “Voice &…” workshops on campus in February (with Laurel Irene and David Harris), and placing in two composition competitions (The American Prize and the Walter Hussey Composition Competition) as evidence.  It was a lovely way to end my tenure at Curry and provided an opportunity to reflect on all that has happened in the past year.

Praise is a fickle master, though.  These honors are only snapshots representing months or even years of effort.  They feel wonderful to receive—who doesn’t want to be recognized for their work?  But there is also a danger here.  If we see our self-worth only through the lens of how others respond to us, we may start to think that in the absence of awards, we aren’t doing good work.  If this is the case, what happens if there is no next award? 

On the other hand, how many artists, scientists, and leaders created amazing work only to be dismissed by their peers?  Where would our world be without individuals persevering even when the world ignored or berated them?  Albus Dumbledore’s description of the Mirror of Erised also describes the peril of seeking praise, “Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible.” 

Dumbledore continues, perhaps paraphrasing Samuel Silas Curry, “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” Awards are wonderful moments, and they deserve to be enjoyed while they last.  At the same time, they are always fleeting and temporary.  What really matters is finding joy in the work that both precedes and follows a moment of recognition.  Our greatest fulfillment often rests in process.  (By the way, feel free to remind me of this if ever I seem discouraged—we all forget.)

Thus, even as I celebrate both Victoria’s and my accolades, I remember the wise words of Robert Frost, most beautifully set by Randall Thompson:

So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid. 

'Choose Something Like a Star' from "Frostiana" by Randall Thompson (1899-1984)
UCLA Chorale, March 16, 2013, Schoenberg Hall
Donald Neuen, conductor
Mona Lands, piano

“The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark.”

Change is in the air. 

As of August 15, 2019, I will be Assistant Professor and Director of Choral Studies at Jacksonville University in Jacksonville, FL.  This change will bring me closer to home and allow Ariel’s blood to unfreeze for the first time in six years.  I’ll be working alongside one of my best friends in the world to build on a tremendous foundation and tradition of musical excellence.  JU has recently installed a visionary new President and promoted their former choir director to Dean of the newly christened Linda Berry Stein College of Fine Arts.  Excitement and support for choral music abound.

“A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings.  Alone must it seek the ether.”

I am so thankful to Curry College for taking a chance on an untested, ABD graduate student five years ago.  From day one, my colleagues encouraged me to get involved, and I took their advice.  After a year on the Budget Committee, I was surprised when Diane Webber asked me to consider running for Faculty Chair, and shocked when the faculty elected me to that role. I have never learned so much so fast in my life, and that includes three years of doctoral coursework. Since then, we have dreamed about a school of arts and sciences, planned strategically, and envisioned new manners of faculty governance. I am a better leader as a result. 

I’ve taught all kinds of electives, rewritten curriculum, and worked with students from across the college, many of whom were having their first experience with music.  This has made me a better teacher.  

I have benefited from so many collaborations:

• Dance and Visual Art Concerts

• Guest Artists (like “The Voice &…” Workshops)

• First Year Inquiry (I’ll always be a Monster)

• Athletics (the best hockey game experiences begin with singing)

• Mass ACDA Intercollegiate (Bach, Purcell, Haydn, Orff, Faure, and Dr. Dennis Slaughter)

Curry is a place that values teamwork, and it has made me a better teammate.

Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective has also played an important role in making this move possible.  For one, it provided a fantastic topic for my dissertation.  Our repertoire has forced me to become a better singer, while pushing my conducting and rehearsal techniques to accommodate their varied demands.  Triad’s performances and recordings of so many pieces are directly connected to most of the awards and commissions I’ve received in the past few years.  Many composers dream of being able to write for such capable, open-minded, and devoted performers, but I have been blessed to do so repeatedly. Most importantly, the videos of my conducting the ensemble were a key part of my application to JU.  (Be sure to join us for our concerts on May 11 and 12.  I’ll try not to cry.)

“Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”

I will miss my Curry students, with whom I have traveled, laughed, cried, and struggled. Hopefully, along the way they have found their voice in music—if so, I have done my job, and they no longer need me. These kinds of changes are bittersweet, but I’ve always been the type to walk through open doors.  Leaving home for the University of Tennessee was difficult, but so was moving to Virginia…and Alabama…and Kentucky…and Massachusetts.  I am overjoyed that this time, Ariel will be along for the ride.  Whatever the future holds, I know there will be adventure, love, and music. 

Oh, and also the World of Harry Potter…because…Florida.

“If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song.”

Quotations from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

I’ve had a couple of featured articles in the Massachusetts ACDA Newsletter, and I wanted to share links with everyone now that they’ve been published online.

Drawing on my experiences as both a conductor and a collaborative pianist, I penned “Apprehending the Assassin Accompanist” (page 10). Now, if I could only follow my own advice! (My apologies to Curry’s wonderfully patient collaborative pianist Jacob Clapper.)

Also, MassACDA President Stephen Paparo interviewed me for the October 2018 issue, and as one might expect, independent publishers and composition took center stage in the conversation.

Speaking of, I will be leading a reading session of music from Independent Publishers at our upcoming summer conference. If you’re in the area, please join us. It’s one of the best state-level events I’ve ever seen. Not to bury the lead, but our headliners are the fantastic composer/conductors Rosephanye Dunn Powell and Andrea Ramsey. I can’t wait!

DISCLAIMER:  I don’t intend for this post to be a rant or a complaint, but a collection of observations with an invitation to discuss.  I am exceedingly thankful for every commission I have ever received, and they have inspired me to compose many more works than I ever would have written without them.  I have no plans to decline future commissions, nor do I wish to disparage anyone who makes a living from commissions.  This is merely a first attempt at searching for alternatives to a complicated, powerful, and imperfect system.  If you have ideas for how we might improve it together, please share them in comments below!  Let’s make a better choral world together.   And now, on to the main event…

I’ve just finished writing a commission for my friend Patrick Callaghan at San Jacinto College in Houston, and I can hardly wait to hear the premiere in April.  The piece is entitled The Field (Ubi Caritas), and it’s a combination of excerpts from Leviticus, the Ubi Caritas chant (including snippets of the melody), and The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.  I’ve used overlapping ostinatos to mimic the distractions of life and set-up a moment of clarity and focus as we reflect on loving one another and being truly present.  Patrick allowed for up to four instruments plus piano in the commission, and working with these additional colors offers a special privilege that composers rarely experience. 

Pros vs. Cons

At the same time, I’ve been thinking about the commission process a lot.  Obviously, every composer loves commissions, right?  Who would want to…

• collaborate with fantastic conductors and singers across the country

• create new music for a particular time, place, and ensemble

• bring to life exciting ideas, hopes, and dreams that others entrust to you

• know that someone believes in you enough to place their ensemble’s success in your hands

• guarantee a performance from conductors and ensembles who are passionate about making new sounds

And of course, no one is going to turn down financial support. :-)

However, if I’m being honest—and being honest is what a journal is for—commissions are sometimes like democracy:  the worst system, except for all the others.  While I can’t speak for every composer, I know I can speak for some (who will remain anonymous), because we regularly discuss our anxieties privately. We aren’t looking for pity, but from what I’ve heard, I think it’s worth airing out some of the common anxieties we experience when embarking on a new commission:

• Deadlines:  What if the piece just isn’t ready at the time it needs to be ready?  Everyone gets writer’s block eventually, right? 

• Aesthetics:  What if they don’t like it?  Perhaps even worse, what if I don’t like it?  What if no one understands it?  What if it’s a piece that needs a few performances before people can really “get” it, but I know it will probably only be heard once? This is especially problematic if you’re trying (or want to try) something new, innovative, or different from what you’ve written in the past.

• Difficulty: What if the choir isn’t able to perform it well in the rehearsal time allotted? What if they’re bored?

• Obligation:  The commissioner feels obligated to perform the work, even if they (or you) don’t like it.  They might even feel obligated to say that they like it when they don’t.  Can every new work really be a winner?  Even Mozart wrote a few dreadful works.  What happens when you accidentally drop one of those on someone’s music stand?

I also recognize that every composer is different, and we all work best under a peculiar circumstances. Most of my pieces that have won awards and several of my pieces I personally prefer (No, I won’t give you a list-don’t ask) weren’t written for commissions.  I wrote them simply because I felt inspired to create.  In fact, I’m not the kind of person who will crank out a new cantata every week (thanks for setting that standard, Johann Sebastian).  Though others obviously can do so, I literally don’t have that many ideas in my head at any one moment, and even if I did, where would I find the time to write them all down?  Two or three pieces in a year is a solid output for me—any more than that and they may all start to sound the same. 

Alternatives

So what are our options?  I think I already covered that with “except for all the others”. :-) Then again, perhaps this conversation will inspire new possibilities.  Here are a few of the ideas I’m mulling over, but none strikes me as an end-all, be-all solution. 

My leading concept is a sponsored premiere where I would write pieces on my own schedule, and when they’re ready, present them to conductors who could then claim the premiere rights if they so choose.  We could call it a “commission” if that’s beneficial, while ensuring that the conductor gets a piece they really like.  It also guarantees that I have produced a piece I’m completely confident in without the pressure of deadlines.  The downsides are that it requires me to be consistent in writing (deadlines are sometimes helpful for keeping me on task) and it requires me to keep pieces under wraps (I’m terrible at keeping secrets for a long time).  There’s also the danger that I might start to feel like a salesman while trying to find the right conductor or that the conductor might feel pressured to accept the piece because it’s been on the shelf too long. 

We could also go back to the old patronage system.  Composers would no longer have to shop things around or worry about financial matters—if only they could find someone willing to have a “composer in residence” on their staff, no strings attached.  I’m not holding my breath on this one, though.  How many individuals with that level of wealth are looking for a composer?  Might someone propose a modern twist on this concept?

Perhaps something like Patreon can help, but it doesn’t seem to be geared toward the classical world. Also, the composer would have to put more time into marketing and reporting on his/her work, which reduces the time available for actually writing.  And it still doesn’t guarantee performances or a premiere.

A day job is an option for relative financial security, but this relegates composition to one’s already limited free time. It also means that performances and/or premieres are far from guaranteed. As a side note, the fact that I have a day job gives me a lot of artistic freedom. I doubt that many full-time composers would dare express some of the worries I’m sharing here, and truthfully, I’ve almost talked myself out of posting this more than once. I think that speaks to the problems inherent in the current system.

An Invitation

What grand, innovative idea am I missing?  Maybe there isn’t a better system, but given that the current one is imperfect, what harm is there in brainstorming possibilities?  New music is worth supporting, and I’m hopeful that there is a way to help composers create without stressing everyone out.  Please share your thoughts below…

This morning, my smart friends drew together students, faculty, neighbors, and friends (all of them smart, as evidenced by their presence at this workshop) to make up some music.  Beginning with a simple, minor pentatonic scale, we improvised a tapestry of mercy.  We sang of inanimate objects that suddenly realized they could ride horses, leaving their stagnant existence forever (Woody and Buzz, meet Thelma and Louise).  We meditated on the complexity of brains and larynges and felt the powerful connections that grow from mindful practices.  In the concert, many more smart friends, the members of Sing! and Triad, filled the Keith Auditorium with gorgeous sonorities. 

Such was but one day in a week of mind-blowing revelations, all thanks to my smart friends Laurel Irene and David Harris.  Founders of voicescienceworks.org, this dynamic duo specializes in translating the technical intricacies of vocology into concepts even complete beginners can apply.  We’ve seen (and heard) their scientific magic at work all week!

Tuesday evening, I heard two students’ voices transform after simply focusing on harmonics already present in their own voice.  On Wednesday, I swept several students’ jaws off the floor after they heard C3LA’s film score for The Fall of the House of Usher.  On Thursday, I met “the family larynx” as students and faculty imitated the eleven muscles of the larynx and learned about the unimaginable complexities involved in every sound we make.  Yesterday, I watched thespians discover the true power of their voices.

In the process, I’ve encountered so many new concepts, my brain is about to explode.  Did you know that it might be possible to develop perfect pitch as an adult if we simply ask our brains to listen in a different way?  That every sound a larynx makes includes every vowel we could ever need?*  That a straw and cup might be a singer’s best friend?  I didn’t, but I’m a believer now!  I even witnessed a technological take on Harold Hill’s “Think System” that may be the most effective pedagogical tool I’ve ever encountered.  (BTW, the technique evolved from a treatment for Autism, proving that both brains and music are miraculous)

The only “problem” with smart friends is that they force me to face the bogeyman:  change.  I can’t be content to keep doing things according to my own bias, when there is so much more to learn about the world, especially if I dare to call myself an educator.  Thankfully, smart friends also ease the adjustment process.  They’ve already done the research and blazed the trail.  I don’t have to reinvent the wheel, but I do have to change the tires.  I think we’ll start with the rear driver’s side in Sing! rehearsal on Monday.

I have smart friends, and I’m so very thankful some of them came to visit this week!

* Vast oversimplification which is likely flawed (think Tim Taylor regurgitating Wilson’s wisdom):  Every sound a human larynx makes is actually a complex combination of many sound waves.  Our vocal tract (the air column stretching from our larynx to our lips) filters out some of those sound waves, and what remains is perceived as a single vowel on a single pitch (though it is literally neither).  When we shape the “ah” vowel, the vocal tract filters out most of the waves that aren’t “ah”.  When we shape the “ee” vowel, the vocal tract filters out most of the waves that aren’t “ee”, and so on.  In short, our larynx constantly makes all vowels (both when singing and speaking), and our brains create shapes that eliminate the vowels (aka harmonics) we don’t want at any given moment. 

This led to one of the funniest moments of the week, when I suggested that this concept suggests a political metaphor, where in a country of nearly infinite diversity, our civic vocal tract has filtered out everything except “uh and a dirty er”.  Sounds like the name for a fantastic new podcast, where all vowels are replaced with one of those two.  Imagine Abraham Lincoln channeling the Swedish chef:  “Fur scur und survern yers ergur.”  :-)

UPDATE (April 9, 2019)

A Parable of Choices is a Finalist for The American Prize! More information available on The American Prize blog. Hear the Yale Glee Club premiere performance or check out a perusal score if you have a moment. More information about Parable is available in my journal. Congratulations to my fellow finalists including several MusicSpoke colleagues!

Original Post (January 26, 2019)

I just discovered that The American Prize has named me a semi-finalist in the Professional Choral Composition Division! This is a non-profit, national competition recognizing excellence in the arts, and the judges reviewed All Things New, A Parable of Choices, and Green Is the Color of Its Flame. All three titles are published by MusicSpoke. Finalists will be announced later in the year, but in the meantime, I’m honored to be listed among some of the best and brightest names in the field.

Congratulations to my fellow musicspokers Andrew Bruhn, Jessica French, and Kyle Pederson for also earning a spot among the semi-finalists!

In reflecting on this achievement, I would be remiss not to mention the many friends and ensembles who supported these particular pieces. Nicolas Nickl for commissioning All Things New and Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective for sponsoring its public premiere, the Yale Glee Club for honoring and premiering A Parable of Choices, and the Huntsville Community Chorus Chamber Chorale for commissioning and premiering Green Is the Color of Its Flame. Without these fantastic organizations, their directors, and their members, these pieces and so many others would exist only on my computer’s hard drive.

Finally, I always have reservations about entering competitions and celebrating their results. At the end of the day, art isn’t about competing—it’s about observing and experiencing. Recognition along the way feels good—don’t get me wrong—but it’s certainly not the reason I compose. I expect that most artists would agree. I write music with the hope of sparking conversations and creating experiences for both performers and audiences. Nothing in music can outshine those moments of collective creativity, but to the extent competitions allow for more collaborations to take place, I’m all in!

Redemption Mass finally had its premiere thanks to sharing the score in response to a post by Beth Richey-Sullivan, a conductor whom I had never met! My meme game is super strong thanks to the many funny images and stories these colleagues share, and I’ve added tons of great repertoire to my bucket list.

Best yet, I’ve had many difficult questions answered after just a couple of clicks. Most recently, I asked for help pronouncing Shchedryk. “What is this magical word?” you might ask. I’ll tell you.

Shchedryk was originally a Ukrainian folk chant that Mykola Leontovych harmonized four different ways between 1901 and 1916. The fourth version stuck, and in this form, it was a song celebrating the arrival of a swallow singing about wealth in a new year. It would have been sung in the spring (thus the poppies above), according to my favorite archaic calendar: the Julian! :-)

Though the song fell out of favor after Ukraine joined the Soviet Union, it received an American premiere before a sold-out Carnegie Hall in 1921. Peter J. Wilhousky (an American of Ukrainian descent) heard the tune and arranged it for the NBC Symphony Orchestra, where it became a huge hit! Wilhousky replaced the lyrics with his own, completely unrelated to the originals. Claiming that the melody sounded like bells, he wrote, “Hark! How the bells, sweet silver bells…” and the rest is history.

This fall, I had the bright idea of attempting the original Ukrainian with Curry College’s auditioned chamber chorale, Accelerando. There was only one problem. I have NO idea how to pronounce Ukrainian. Where to turn? Facebook, of course.

Enter my wonderful colleague and new friend, John Wernega. In addition to providing a transliteration, he shared a recording of his choir singing the tune and a video of himself pronouncing the words! With his permission, I’ve shared both in this post as a resource for future choir directors who may have the same question.

In the midst of cat videos, political rants, foreign bots, and infinite pictures of your dear aunt Sally, if you wonder why we continue to bother with social media, maybe this success will provide one good reason to keep it going.

Now to find out if Accelerando still has time and willpower to learn these words in the next month!

For more information on the history of the tune and several different performances, check out:

• History of the tune from news.rice.edu

• Wikipedia

• 8 Performances on Kyivpost.com

• Translation

I once had a conversation with a mentor who was conducting Handel’s Messiah for the umpteenth time. 

[Full disclosure: Messiah is definitely NOT on my bucket list, and I’ve long wished the choral world would make space for one of the other 1,001 major works for chorus and orchestra specifically designed for the Christmas season…or one of Handel’s many fantastic but nearly forgotten works (Israel in Egypt, anyone?)  I mean that particular performance was one of THREE productions of Messiah that season.  But I digress… ]

I asked my mentor how he could keep going back to the same piece of music year after year.  How could it still be fresh after so many performances?  His response? 

"It’s like seeing an old friend again."

Choral conductors face a major challenge.  How can we be curators of more than six centuries of music while also embracing and championing the music of our time?  Given the tremendous breadth of skills and knowledge required to sing music of every style period—including the current one—I’m not even sure this is possible without sacrificing some level of authenticity.  No matter what, we’re going to leave out a lot of really great music.  There just isn’t time to do it all!

In a group like Triad, we’ve intentionally focused on the music of our time, leaving the previous 5.75 centuries to other ensembles, many of which also focus on particular segments of historic practice.  Like all choirs who specialize, we perform music that often has no other outlet.  Without us, the pieces we program would be little more than ink on a page or ones and zeroes on someone’s hard drive. 

Still, we find ourselves wrestling with the same questions as choirs that perform multiple style periods.  Is presenting a piece once sufficient?  Or should some of our repertoire be reprised from time to time?  Given that we have only 2-3 concerts a year, how much repetition is too much?  Too little? 

If only Goldilocks were one of our conductors!

Last night, Triad presented a concert with the intent of resurfacing gems from our first four seasons (and like any historian, we didn’t have time to perform every piece we wanted to include).  Like Messiah to my mentor, each returning piece felt just like “seeing an old friend again”.  As in any mature relationship, familiarity revealed new dimensions of understanding and connection. 

Since our first concert, I’ve improved my vocal technique and sense of pitch (a musician’s work is NEVER done).  I’m still far from the best singer in our ensemble, but I’m definitely better than I was four years ago.  Additionally, I remembered quite a bit from our earlier performances of these works.  As a result, last night’s concert was so much more personally meaningful than any of our previous outings. 

I was able to immerse myself beauty of Emerson’s transcendental world, brought to life through Thomas Stumpf’s sensitive and poignant setting.  I found myself pleading for mercy in the dramatic climax of Karl Henning’s Agnus Dei.  My heart leapt for joy among all generations in Sarah Riskind’s Hariyu—even (perhaps especially) through the high G’s.  And I smiled for the hundredth time as “standing” and “running” give way to “falling” and “crying”, “sleeping” and “dreaming” in Charles Turner’s Sing Child.

I don’t mean to downplay the significance of the “new to us” works on the program either.  Sudie Marcuse, Eileen Christiansen, and Charles Turner mesmerized us with their solos in Osnat Netzer’s Paths of Stone and Water.  My own Green Is the Color of Its Flame is really a duet for choir and piano, and Thomas Stumpf electrified the room with his dynamic performance at the keyboard. The choir rose to meet his challenge with intensity and excitement!  Jeremy Faust’s enigmatic Croyez vous commanded…or questioned…our belief in God (depending on how you read the French), and Jing-ga-lye-ya made us all tap our toes—even if on completely different beats (if you’ve ever sung it, you’ll understand why).

I could go on and on and on.  Every piece had its highlight, and each work was unique.  Of all the concerts I’ve performed with Triad, this was by far my favorite.  I think it was in large part because of the depth that comes with familiarity.  I’m not sure that every concert should include this many returning works, but I’m convinced that this shouldn’t be the last time we sing these pieces.  Much of the world missed out on hearing them last night, and they deserve another chance. 

Most importantly, I would hate to deprive Triad of the opportunity to turn a new friend into an old friend.

This is as good a time as any to reflect on what I have learned from collectivity so far. 

When Triad first met in David Harris’s apartment to organize ourselves, there was a lot of talk of changing the world through music.  We spoke of workshopping compositions, fine-tuning conducting skills, and generally encouraging one another to become better musicians.  We shared a vision for making choral music more egalitarian, emphasizing personal humility in service of great and underrepresented music.  In fact, it was this desire to make new music together that drove many of our early decisions. 

In the four years hence, I have marveled at the diversity of our conductors, composers, and singers.  They regularly suggest techniques I would never think to try, and yet they succeed.  There have been many times when we’ve taken up a piece of music, and at first glance I thought, “This will never work!”  Then we sing it, and it’s fantastically effective, precisely because of how it deviated from my expectations.  Conductors have called upon me to do things I would never ask of a choir, and yet somehow the result is magical.  Singers have shared techniques or metaphors that I have never heard or thought of, much less tried, and they make me a better musician.  Occasionally, requests fall flat, but I've learned to suspend disbelief and give each conductor my best shot at doing what they request. As a result, my musical toolbox has expanded well beyond anything one could learn from a single training program or school. 

I've also learned that each musician has a unique way of expressing both praise and frustration, and sometimes one person’s preferred method of expression doesn’t match another person’s preferred method of reception.  In recent years, I've served as the group's conductor-/cat-wrangler, where I manage rehearsal time and match conductors to pieces. In private conversations with other members, I’ve heard both extreme praise and extreme criticism for literally every person who has ever stepped onto our podium (including myself).  Often, those extremes will come from two different members regarding the same conductor in a fairly short period of time.  I'm never quite sure what to do in those situations, so I just chalk it up to the mystery of collectivism. 

In a traditional choir, the member complaining about a conductor might choose to leave in hopes of finding another leader more to their suiting.  However, in a collective with up to nine conductors per concert, the odds are there will always be at least one who pushes a given singer's buttons.  If that's enough to make you leave, then a collective probably isn't the right setting for you, and that's OK too.  Those who stick it out intentionally choose to put up with a few temporary irritations in favor of the greater pleasures we enjoy. 

For me, the core mission of our ensemble far outweighs any inconveniences it evokes.  I'm making really cool music with some of the smartest, most talented and dedicated musicians I've ever met.  So, when we face one of those fleeting problems, I put my focus back where it belongs and redouble my efforts to be the best musician I can be; the best conductor I can be; the best singer I can be. 

Collectives require a higher level of commitment than almost any other ensemble.  There can be no compromise.  The model doesn’t work if one member doesn’t practice the music regularly—we are only as strong as our weakest singer (which admittedly is far too often me).  It doesn't work if we lose focus in rehearsal, even for a moment.  It doesn’t work if someone phrases criticism inartfully, refuses to accept feedback, or gives less grace to others than they expect to receive.  It doesn't work if we routinely assign negative intent or harmful motivation to others' comments.  

In fact, choral collectives provide a perfect opportunity to train for living life.  As I look around, I see a world desperately longing for empathy, commitment, creativity, vulnerability, and humility. These are essential elements of the collective experience, and if you don't bring them with you, you'll either develop them in a hurry or start looking for another choir to join.  I'm greatly blessed to have learned from the best.

Kudos to C4 for getting this ball rolling and setting a fantastic example (I look forward to seeing you on Saturday). Thanks also to C3LA and Inversion Ensemble who are shining this light brightly in new markets. Most of all, thanks to my friends and colleagues in Triad to continue to fill my bucket with amazing new music.

If you're in town, join us June 17 for our next performance!  

*If you're wondering what Triad is, we're a choir with no single artistic director. Instead, we make all decisions through conversation and consensus. Members share in executing all administrative tasks. We have multiple conductors, composers, and (of course) singers on our roster—thus the "triad". We perform music written in the past 25 years, much of it composed by our members. C4 provided the model that we use, and C3LA and Inversion are on similar paths. We're all a part of a network, but each ensemble is unique. For more details, click the dissertation link above. 

Ask any good voice teacher if they would recommend extreme vocal registers as the best starting point for inexperienced singers, and they'll probably laugh in your face.  When building voices, we all know that the mid-range is often the best place to start, because that's where students are most comfortable and confident.  From there, we lead singers on brief excursions to higher and lower notes, and those increasingly frequent voyages gradually extend their usable range.

While most agree that this is good vocal pedagogy, why is it that we as choir directors are so quick to classify singers as “sopranos” or “basses” and ask students to sing in the same extreme register for an entire semester…or year…or four-years?  Remember that most voices don't settle until a singer is well into their 20's if not their 30's.  Why limit exploration at age 14?

Several years ago, I heard Lisa Fredenburgh present a fantastic interest session on this topic called “The Switch Hitters’ Guide to Voicing Women’s Choirs” where she advocated asking women to switch parts in her choir in order to change the color of each song.  Heavier voices might sing soprano to achieve a late Romantic feel, while lighter voices could sing soprano to present music from the Renaissance.  Similarly, Dr. Lori Hetzel at the University of Kentucky frequently reminds students in rehearsals and lectures that true altos are increasingly rare, and that the alto 2 part is more a function of composers’ wishes than of human voices.  

A similar approach can benefit students at all levels and voice parts.  In my beginning choirs (including middle school, high school, and college groups), I avoid voice-part labels.  Students are not an "alto" or "tenor", but are singing the alto or tenor part for now. 

For younger students, I create teams based around colors, allowing students to choose their color.  Then, we replace voice labels in the music with the appropriate team’s color.  Each team has a similar proportion of strong/weak readers and loud/soft voices.  This allows for experience to encourage and assist inexperience, and builds bridges between younger and older singers.  It also ensures that all parts can handle challenges equally.  

For older singers and choirs with changing voices, I will assign individual singers to different voice parts based on the range of their voice and the chosen piece, their level of experience, and what I feel they need to practice most.  Some of these singers may end up singing one voice part most of the time because their voice has an extremely limited range (cambiatas, for example), they need more practice with learning to hear and sing harmony parts or because they simply aren’t ready to explore their higher or lower ranges just yet.  

However, even students with limited ranges deserve the opportunity to trade parts at least occasionally, and we should choose at least one piece with moderate ranges if for no other reason than to accommodate this need. Even our baritones and basses should explore falsetto occasionally.  Asking one or two to join the cambiatas for a song can offer a mentoring or bonding opportunity while also teaching them how to access an extremely valuable part of their range.

Most importantly, I choose pieces with limited ranges as much as possible.  My arrangement of Minstrel Boy for SATB choir keeps singers within a minor 9th for most of the song, and only occasionally dips the second altos to B3.  When a piece goes beyond those limits (for example, Sanctus from Redemption Mass or my arrangement of Der Erlkönig), I carefully choose the singers who go to the extreme registers and make sure that they aren’t asked to sing those notes on every piece of a program.  The skills required to maintain that level of performance for an entire concert are a rarity among inexperienced singers, and perhaps not as common as we might think among experienced singers.  

I strongly encourage directors to experiment with changing voicing regularly.  If not on multiple pieces within a single program, then at least after each concert.  By doing so, we prevent the same students from straining for every high note or every low note, expose them to the opportunity to explore new parts of their voice (and practice transitioning between them), teach ALL students to sing harmony AND melody, and discover new timbres for our ensemble’s sound. 

This is a reblog of a post (slightly edited) that I wrote for CadenzaOne in 2014.  I think the ideas are still relevant (I continue to use this strategy in my own choir), so I wanted to share it again.  You can read the original post here.

Finally, remember that while composers receive 10% or less of sales through traditional publishers, they may receive as much as 70% of the purchase price from the websites below.  There are many other great reasons to support independent and digital publishers, but that's a pretty strong start. 

If you're looking for a particular voicing, composer, or poet, use use "Find on Page" in your browser to search for keywords.  Please feel free to contact me with any questions!

Canasg Music

I Saw Three Ships arranged by Paul Ayres (3 or 4 voices with flexible accompaniment); traditional English text; Easy/Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 3 minutes.

St. Mark Passion (Reconstructed) composed by J. S. Bach, Andrew Wilson-Dickson, editor (SATB choir with SATB soloists, orchestra, and continuo); German text by Picander; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 1 hour and 42 minutes.

Graphite Publishing

Back to the Heart composed by Timothy C. Takach (3-part round with optional piano); English text by Julia Klatt Singer; Easy/Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 2 minutes.

Music in the Night composed by Eric William Barnum (SAB choir with piano); English text by Harriet Prescott Spofford; Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 5 minutes.

New England Songs composed by Ola Gjeilo (Solo/unison choir with piano); English texts by Henry David Thoreau, Walt Whitman, and E. Barrett Browning; Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 11 minutes.

Sed Amore (But by Love) composed by Dale Warland (SSAA or SATB choir with piano); Latin text by Benedict de Spinoza; Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 6 minutes.

Independent Music Publishers Cooperative

Anne Frank: A Living Voice composed by Linda Tutas Haugen (Treble choir with string quartet); Text by Anne Frank, translated into and set in English; Moderate/Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 28 minutes.

Bar xizam (Upward I Rise) composed by Abbie Betinis (SATB choir with divisi, a cappella); Persian text by Khwajeh Hâfez-e Shirazi; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 8 minutes.

Justice Choir

Justice Choir Songbook composed by various composers and compiled by the Justice Choir editors.

MusicSpoke

1941 composed by Andrea Ramsey (SATB, SSA, or TBB choir with piano); English text by Shirley Eberth; Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 4 minutes.

Dear Appalachia: Songs from My Mountain Home composed by Timothy Michael Powell (SATB choir with bluegrass band); Traditional English texts edited by the composer; Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 12 minutes.

The Dying Californian composed by Greg Brown (TBB choir, a cappella); anonymous English text; Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 3 minutes.

Ordo Rachelis composed by Kurt Knecht (SATB choir, a cappella and with piano); Anonymous Latin text from a Medieval Liturgical Play; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 9 minutes.

Paper Boats composed by Saunder Choi (SMATBB choir, a cappella); English text by Rabindranath Tagore; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 4 minutes.

The Seven Last Words of the Unarmed composed by Joel Thompson (TTBB choir with strings and piano); English texts by Kenneth Chamberlain, Trayvon Martin, Amadou Diallo, Michael Brown, Oscar Grant, John Crawford, and Eric Garner; Moderate/Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 15 minutes.

Note Nova

The Blue Birds arranged by Eunbi Kwak (SATB choir with divisi and piano); Traditional Korean and English texts; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 6 minutes.

A Child's Requiem composed by Steven Sametz (SSAA-SATB-TTBB antiphonal choirs, a cappella); Italian texts by Dante Alighieri; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 8 minutes.

Dante's Dream ("…ll'amor che move il sole e altre stelle") composed by Steven Sametz (SSAA-SATB-TTBB antiphonal choirs, a cappella); Italian texts by Dante Alighieri; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 8 minutes.

The Twenty-ninth Bather composed by Steven Sametz (SSAA choir with optional cello and marimba); English texts by Walt Whitman; Moderate/Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 4 minutes.

See-a-Dot Music Publishing

Alleluia composed by Jonathan David (SSATBB choir, a cappella or with organ); traditional Latin text; Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 4 minutes.

Demon composed by Matthew Brown (Graphic score for mixed choir, a cappella); Latin text from Mark 6:9; Easy/Moderate Difficulty; Duration is approximately 4 minutes.

Hymn to Aethon, The Bird-Headed, The Many-Taloned composed by Fahad Siadat (SATB choir with SAT soloists, a cappella); Non-lingual text by the composer; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 6 minutes.

Poet of the Body and Soul composed by Andrea Clearfield (SATB choir with divisi and piano); English text by Walt Whitman; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 10 minutes.

Shar Ki Ri (Mountain to the East) composed by Andrea Clearfield (SSA choir with piano); Traditional Tibetan text; Moderate/Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 5 minutes.

Swirly Music

I Saw a Peacock with a Fiery Tail composed by Caroline Mallonée (SSAATTBB choir, a cappella); English text from an anonymous 17th Century Riddle Poem; Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 3 minutes.

If Ever There Is composed by Rich Campbell (SATB choir, a cappella); English text by Robert Creeley; Moderate/Advanced Difficulty; Duration is approximately 5 minutes.

You can also hear the most recent performance of Redemption Mass (with winds) by the Chancel Choir of First Presbyterian Church, Lexington, KY under the direction of Marlon Hurst.

Purchase scores for Redemption Mass from MusicSpoke.com.

Twelve years is a long journey. 

The first steps were in Huntsville, but eventually the path led to Lexington and Louisville, became very exciting in Dallas, and paused in Boston for a few years before revealing a beautiful mountaintop vista in Overland Park, KS (obviously a metaphor—there are no mountains in Overland Park).

Along the way I passed countless revisions, lessons, doubts, and questions, but two days with the Blue Valley Northwest High School choirs and symphonic orchestra made every challenge worthwhile and every delay worth the wait.

Truth be told, last night's performance was merely icing on a cake of many layers. From the excitement of Beth Richey-Sullivan's steadfast support for Redemption Mass to Michael Arbucci's patient tutelage in the language of strings, I learned a lot and grew as an artisan. Best of all, I met the treasure of Kansas: its students.

Music, at its core, exists primarily for one purpose: building community. It holds us together while we wade through weighty topics and gives us reason to pause and reflect when life would otherwise lead us to do anything else. In the northwest of the Blue Valley, I was able to live out this truth with 250 or so of my new, closest friends. 

Just last week, a member of their community was taken from their community. Students were visibly shaken and still wrestling with circumstances no teenagers should have to face. And in their midst, there was music. Ellington and Ticheli, Copland and Brimsmead, but also Redemption Mass. 

We discussed the development of the work from an innocent earworm through conversations with philosophy, history, and theology and into the turmoil and pressures of life. I shared that the final movement tells of deliverance through the sacrifice of pain, even unto death. It is a musical depiction of life throwing at us "everything and the kitchen sink". The choir groans, "Agnus Dei" (Lamb of God), pleading for relief. Just when one can take no more, our collective burdens erupt into silence, and a still, small voice speaks peace into existence. (I wonder if Ryan knew he would hold the weight of the world on his shoulders when he agreed to sing that solo.) 

I've written many pieces of music, but none of them had brought me to tears until the final rehearsal of Redemption Mass in the aptly-named Church of the Resurrection. I reflected on my personal journey encapsulated in notation and compared it to the lives of these students, so recently touched by tragedy. As they cried out for healing, so did I, and I believe we found together at least a moment of redemption. The worst of life became the best of life. It was a moment I never want to forget (thus this post). 

As Ms. Richey-Sullivan said, "if you take nothing else away from this experience, know that life WILL get better."  I wish I could have spoken directly into each life, to hear their struggles, to encourage them, and to echo her words one-on-one, but time is a cruel master. Instead, we communed through music, and in that place we all found a little rest on our shared trek.

Twelve years is a long journey, but in this case well-worth the trip.

View the complete Redemption Mass premiere concert here. I strongly encourage you not to skip the first half. There was a lot of GREAT music made that evening!  Following the performance, Ms. Richey-Sullivan sent me the following note, including permission to share her experience:

“Every year I give a reflection as part of the final. In many of the responses, the students listed Redemption Mass as the most impactful performance of the year. Thanks for giving us such a wonderful experience!”

"How are you today?"

"Busy."

When was the last time you answered that question with:

• content
• happy
• feeling great
• living life to its fullest

If you're like me, those phrases aren't the first ones to come to mind.  In fact, I can't say that I've ever used any of them to answer that question, but maybe I should. 

Don't get me wrong.  I'm as busy as the next guy, and during the week of November 12th, I'm going to be as busy as I've ever been! Caution—watch for dropping names...  

• three performances with Triad in 8 days
• attending the premiere of A Parable of Choices in New Haven, CT 
• guest lecturing for a colleague
• a special committee meeting
• a Skype conversation with the Yale Glee Club
• all in addition to teaching my regular classes and private lessons at Curry

Why do I subject myself to such things?  Because it's fun!  I love connecting new students to music in ways they never considered before.  Presenting new choral works is a special blessing; few things get me more excited.  Not to mention, hearing one of my compositions performed for the first time (and second and third time)—why else would I spend time writing music?

So the next time you see me, ask me how I'm doing.  If I'm not on my game and give you the same old same old answer—Busy!—ask me again and give me a wink. 

I need to remind myself that weeks like these are why I do what I do.  The more I focus on just how busy I am, the less I get to appreciate the activities I signed up to enjoy.  Yes, I'm busy, but more than that, I'm alive, feeling great, happy, and content—I'm making music!

Wade in the Water has held a special place in my heart for many years.  The Hogan arrangement was one of the first pieces I ever conducted, and I still remember the chills that ran up and down my spine when my friend Amy Nicholson nailed the high note at the end.  Years later, renowned soprano (and Randolph School alumna) Susanna Phillips joined the Randolph Concert Choir in performing that same arrangement for the school's 50th anniversary celebration.  Somewhere between those two experiences, I arranged the melody as an educational experience for my 4th and 5th grade general music students.  To truly understand the power of this spiritual, one needs to understand its context.

The African-American spiritual is a genre of depth, warmth, joy, and sorrow.  It is both a testament to optimism in the worst of times and a window into the tortured community that birthed these timeless texts and melodies.  Spirituals began as an entirely a cappella form, created and sung not by individuals, but by a community working together to revise and improve this music over multiple generations.  The Fisk Jubilee Singers married these songs to European bel canto singing, and made them a staple of the concert hall.

As with much music from primarily aural traditions, spirituals typically have multiple verses, and these may differ depending on when and where they were first written down.  Additionally, many may have served dual purposes.  On their surface, spirituals reference stories or lessons from the Bible, but these stories and lessons were, in many cases, forced upon them by an oppressive and abusive culture.  Such situations may have given rise to the many spirituals that reference past or future justice or punishment:  God’s Gonna Set This World on Fire and The Battle of Jericho, for example.

In other places, slaves were forbidden from learning about the Bible, because slave-owners feared that the gospel would inspire a thirst for freedom and incite a revolution.  Here, spirituals would have been sung privately, with great fear of punishment.  They may also have born coded messages to facilitate escapes.  Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, This Train, and The Gospel Train point to the Underground Railroad.  The Jordan River was a stand-in for the Ohio River—the border between slave and free states.  Wade in the Water served as a reminder to step in and out of creeks and rivers along the journey in order to confuse the dogs who were tracking them.  Additionally, its multiple references to Israel escaping slavery in Egypt under Moses’s leadership provided hope that such an Exodus could happen once again. 

This setting is designed for maximum flexibility.  For a unison performance, everyone sings Part 1.  Two-part trebles can sing Parts 1 and 2, and two-part men (all with changed voices) can sing Parts 1 and 2, an octave lower.  For SAB, sing Parts 1, 2, and 4.  For SSA, sing Parts 1, 2, and 3.  Boys with changing voices can sing Part 3, and can be joined by low altos or high tenors as appropriate.  See and purchase the score at CadenzaOne.com.

For more information on Spirituals, visit NegroSpirituals.com

Given the history of spirituals and the continuing consequences of the injustice that surrounded their creation, I will donate half of my proceeds from this arrangement to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund.

I'm very excited to announce that Alabama Gal is now available for purchase from my store!  This was one of the first things I arranged for students at Randolph School, and it was a big hit in my 5th and 6th Grade music classes.  I've now added a harmony part designed for changing voices with limited ranges.  

The arrangement combines the classic tune—originally known as Buffalo Gals, but who in Alabama wants to sing that?—with The Banjo and Morte! Lamentation by America's first rock star (aka composer), Louis Moreau Gottschalk (1829-1869).  Gottschalk's life is an inspiring tale of independence, risk-taking, and creativity.  Born to Jewish and Creole parents, thirteen-year-old Louis left his family in New Orleans to study music in Paris—no phones, texts, email, or video conferencing.  Though initially rejected by the conservatory strictly because of his nationality, he didn’t give up.  Eventually he earned admission and the admiration of Chopin, Liszt, and other famous pianists.

Gottschalk became a household name as he traveled the world performing his own highly virtuosic compositions alongside some of the most difficult works other composers ever created.  Known for his showmanship, the pianist certainly saved his best for last.  On an extensive South American tour, he performed Morte! (Translated, “Death,” and quoted in Alabama Gal) to tremendous applause.  After bowing, he sat down to begin Tremolo, the next piece on the program, and then abruptly collapsed.  He never recovered and died three weeks later.  I can hardly imagine a more dramatic conclusion to the life of a rock star!

When I first heard The Banjo, the virtuosity blew me away, but the lack of melody posed a musical problem.  In a word, the piece was boring.  Noting that the introduction sounded like a folk song, I started humming along.  Eventually, I discovered that Alabama Gal has enough similarities to pair well with Gottschalk’s banjo “accompaniment”.  I completed the arrangement in 2006 and performed it multiple times with my elementary general music classes.  In the process, we learned a lot about counting sixteenth notes, singing arpeggiated triads, changing tempos, and the wild story of Louis Moreau Gottschalk.  

I have recently learned that the history of the Alabama Gal tune is complicated and deserves further scrutiny. It was associated with minstrel shows, though there is some evidence that the tune and lyrics predate this usage. Please read this article from the Library of Congress before programming the work and perhaps use the work as a way to educate students about the racist history of minstrelsy. There is also an opportunity to discuss Gottschalk’s role in campaigning for the Union, despite his southern heritage.

To purchase copies for your choir, click here!  If you need an accompaniment track or would like to talk more about the song’s origins, contact me. I always welcome conversations, and want to know how I can be a better ally for marginalized people groups.

For more of my arrangements and compositions, be sure to check out my Compositions page.

                Tomorrow, I will enjoy the great honor of presenting Curry College and Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective to participants in the Massachusetts ACDA Summer Conference.  In my interest session, I get to share about how Triad functions and how the lessons I’ve learned there have shaped what we do in Sing! at Curry.

                Preparing for this opportunity has allowed me to reflect—something I don’t do nearly often enough.  In the heat—the actual hotness—of battle (Urinetown fans, represent), it’s so easy to focus on what went wrong or what needs to be fixed, that it’s hard to see progress.  And yet, Curry’s choir has tripled in the last three years and is on pace this fall to see its largest ensemble in many years.  Students, administrators, and other faculty members regularly ask about concerts or comment on how proud they are of what these amazing musicians contribute to our community.  We’re collaborating with other programs and disciplines, from dance to philosophy, psychology, and history, and our choir has joined colleges from across the state to present Orff, Purcell, and Hampton.

                But what really thrills me is seeing students so excited about music that they’re asking what they can do this summer to prepare for the fall.  They’re worried about forgetting what they’ve learned!  They’re asking when this class or that class will come around in the rotation, because they don’t want to miss it.  They’re sad that a course filled that they really wanted to take. 

                What’s at the core of this?  I really believe it has a lot to do with what I’ve learned from Triad.

                Triad has taught me the power of collaboration.  I’ve been a part of many choirs who talked about collaboration.  Dr. Johnson and Dr. Hetzel preached servant leadership and teamwork at Kentucky, and there was a lot of sharing and working together that happened there, for sure.  However, collaboration in a collective takes those concepts to a much higher level.  Here, we rotate leadership.  We listen to ideas, no matter who offers them.  We discuss massive changes, just because someone thinks it might work better—and sometimes, we even enact those crazy, new ideas or massive changes.  We aren’t perfect, and we’re still figuring out how this works, but I’ve never had so much fun working on a life-sized jigsaw puzzle with friends.

                So at Curry, I do everything possible to elicit crazy, new ideas.  Students have assignments like revising the syllabus, suggesting long- and short-term goals for the ensemble, helping to select repertoire (and discussing the pros and cons of various options), designing a publicity and social media campaign, and in so many ways, casting a greater vision for the organization as a whole.  I’m not sure where we will end up, but—we—will get there together, and the journey will be an exhilarating ride.

                For now, the destination is Smith College, Sage Hall, Room 215, July 18, 2017 at 1:30 PM, but what I’m most excited about is setting sail on the next leg of Sing!'s (can't forget the exclamation point) voyage in the Alumni Recreation Center at 4:15 PM on Monday, August 28 and a simultaneous trek through uncharted repertoire with Triad.  Why am I so excited about getting back to rehearsals?  Well, let me share the conclusion of tomorrow’s presentation (not to let the cat out of the bag)…

At the risk of being overly dramatic, I believe choirs can change the world.  It’s why I do this. … Collectives like C4 and Triad present an ongoing opportunity for each member to be the hero.  To step up and take the lead on this project or that committee, as positions rotate among the members.  Indeed, every step toward greater collaboration in our ensembles opens a door for a future hero or team of heroes.  Through egalitarian thinking and consensus-building, we have a golden opportunity to demonstrate for our singers what civic engagement can and should look like.  In so doing, we join a long line of musicians on the vanguard of societal change.

I hope you will meet me on that edge of society…

Post Interest Session Follow-up

Thank you to all who attended today's session!  I had a great time sharing and brainstorming with you.  If I can be of any further assistance, don't hesitate to contact me!

Also, Triad is planning a "schools concert" in February/March.  If you would like more information on your students performing with us, click the "Contact" link above.  Also, we'd love to have you join our ensemble, so feel free to ask about upcoming auditions!

Here is the Prezi presentation that I shared today.

These are the steps we brainstormed for introducing Sing Child to ourselves:

• Sing the mode
• Conversation about earliest childhood memories
• Find those memories in the text
• Look for stuff
• Tell the story—growth and change
• Canon through page 5—all sing one of the parts together, 2-part canon
• Read through the text
• Prepare rhythms in isolation

You can find out more about Charles Turner (composer of Sing Child) at www.hand2ear.net

Recently, a friend asked if I had written any music for a particular type of ensemble, and I realized that a handy-dandy categorized guide to my music might be a helpful resource—especially as we enter the music selection season, also known as “summer”. 

Before I get to the shameless self-promotion below (if that’s what you’re looking for, feel free to skip to the bold text below), I’d like to give a shout out to the many composer-centric publishers out there. 

For a great explanation of the value of these publishers, see John Mackey’s thoughts on the music publication industry and Kurt Knecht’s introduction to the topic here.  Speaking of, Kurt’s site https://musicspoke.com/ features several great artists including my friend, Saunder Choi.  Additionally, J.D. Frizzell founded www.CadenzaOne.com, and there’s a lot of great music there from up and coming artists as well as scores that would otherwise be permanently out of print.  Fahad Siadat’s http://seeadot.com/ (pun intended) will stretch your imagination in all kinds of great ways. 

In many cases, you’ll pay less per title, living composers will make more per title, and you’ll be looking through carefully curated lists of artful new music.  Everybody wins—especially your singers.

This isn’t to say that the traditional publishers are evil or should be banned, but maybe there is more out there to be explored.  Just maybe.

So if you’d like to perform something I’ve written or composed, I've sorted them by voicing and ensemble type.  Keep in mind, that if you see something you like that doesn't quite fit your group, I’m usually willing to adapt it to another voicing or accompaniment, so feel free to ask! 

I’d also love to collaborate on something brand new and tailored to your ensemble.  Composers will do almost anything for a guaranteed performance!  

Click below to go directly to music from my catalog that I think is most appropriate for each voicing/level of choir:

• Treble Choirs
  • Elementary/Middle School
  • High School
  • Collegiate
  • Church
• Mixed Choirs
  • Middle School
  • High School
  • Collegiate
  • Adult/Professional
  • Adult/Community
  • Adult/Church
  • Student/Church
• TTBB Choirs
  • High School
  • Collegiate

Treble Choirs

Elementary/Middle School

Alabama Gal (Unison or 2-pt Choir with Piano)

This setting combines the classic folk tune with Morte! Lamentations and The Banjo by America's first rock star (aka composer), Louis Moreau Gottschalk.  Alabama (or Buffalo or California...) Gal provides the perfect opportunity to feature an amazing accompanist while teaching students about counting 16th notes, singing arpeggiated triads, and changing tempos.  Not to mention exploring Gottschalk's wild and crazy life.  I've also provided an optional second part with limited range, perfect for boys with changing voices.  Score 

Il est bel et bon (2-part, a cappella)

This is an arrangement of the infamous chanson for two-part chorus.  A cappella and accessible, it’s a great introduction to the genre for young singers.  Score 

Song in the Air (SA with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

Wade in the Water (SACB Flexible Choir with piano)

This jazz-inspired arrangement features a fantastic accompaniment that is written so that no improvisation is necessary (though in this style, it is always welcome).  A cambiata part is included for boys with changing voices, and the arrangement is designed for maximum flexibility—SA, SSA, TB, SAB, SACB, and unison are all possible.  Given the history of spirituals and the continuing consequences of the injustice that surrounded their creation, I will donate half of the proceeds from this arrangement to the NAACP Legal Deffense Fund.  Score

High School

Alabama Gal (Unison or 2-pt Choir with Piano)

This setting combines the classic folk tune with Morte! Lamentations and The Banjo by America's first rock star (aka composer), Louis Moreau Gottschalk.  Alabama (or Buffalo or California...) Gal provides the perfect opportunity to feature an amazing accompanist while teaching students about counting 16th notes, singing arpeggiated triads, and changing tempos.  Not to mention exploring Gottschalk's wild and crazy life.  I've also provided an optional second part with limited range, perfect for boys with changing voices.  

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (SSA with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  Score

Il est bel et bon (2-part, a cappella)

This is an arrangement of the infamous chanson for two-part chorus.  A cappella and accessible, it’s a great introduction to the genre for young singers.  Score

Minstrel Boy (SSAA with piano)

This dramatic setting uses voices and piano to imitate traditional Irish instruments.  A favorite of service personnel, the Irish air is perfect for tributes and memorials.  Contact me for the score.  TTBB Video

Song in the Air (SA with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

Wade in the Water (SACB Flexible Choir with piano)

This jazz-inspired arrangement features a fantastic accompaniment that is written so that no improvisation is necessary (though in this style, it is always welcome).  A cambiata part is included for boys with changing voices, and the arrangement is designed for maximum flexibility—SA, SSA, TB, SAB, SACB, and unison are all possible.  Given the history of spirituals and the continuing consequences of the injustice that surrounded their creation, I will donate half of the proceeds from this arrangement to the NAACP Legal Deffense Fund.  Score

We Are the Music Makers (SSAA with piano)

This accessible setting brings O'Shaughnessy's famous text to life through lush harmonies, word painting, and exciting fanfares.  Dedicated to the Randolph High School Class of 2011, and premiered by their Concert Choir in the Commencement Ceremonies.  Please know that the accompaniment looks and sounds a LOT harder than it is to play (though it’s admittedly not super easy).  Score SATB Video

…with music…  (SSAA with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  ScoreScore

Collegiate

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (SSA with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  Score

Minstrel Boy (SSAA with piano)

This dramatic setting uses voices and piano to imitate traditional Irish instruments.  A favorite of service personnel, the Irish air is perfect for tributes and memorials.  Contact me for the score.  TTBB Video

Song in the Air (SA with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

We Are the Music Makers (SSAA with piano)

This accessible setting brings O'Shaughnessy's famous text to life through lush harmonies, word painting, and exciting fanfares.  Dedicated to the Randolph High School Class of 2011, and premiered by their Concert Choir in the Commencement Ceremonies.  Please know that the accompaniment looks and sounds a LOT harder than it is to play (though it’s admittedly not super easy).  Score SATB Video

…with music…  (SSAA with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  Score

Church

Come, Christians Join to Sing (2-part with piano, congas, and optional C instrument)

Commissioned and premiered by the Music Makers and Young Musicians of First Baptist Church, Huntsville, AL for their 2010 Hymn Festival, this work weaves text and melody from five hymns into an infectious rhythmic motive.  Score

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (SSA with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  Score

Holy God, We Praise Thy Name (2-part with piano)

Commissioned for the 10th Anniversary Diocese of Lexington Area Choir Concert, this setting of the classic hymn features a fantasia-style piano accompaniment supporting ethereal, accessible vocal lines.  Marrying old (chant notation and canon) with new (aleatorism) techniques, it celebrates both tradition and innovation.  Score

Song in the Air (SA with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

Wade in the Water (SACB Flexible Choir with piano)

This jazz-inspired arrangement features a fantastic accompaniment that is written so that no improvisation is necessary (though in this style, it is always welcome).  A cambiata part is included for boys with changing voices, and the arrangement is designed for maximum flexibility—SA, SSA, TB, SAB, SACB, and unison are all possible.  Given the history of spirituals and the continuing consequences of the injustice that surrounded their creation, I will donate half of the proceeds from this arrangement to the NAACP Legal Deffense Fund.  Score

Mixed Choirs

Middle School

Alabama Gal (Unison or 2-pt Choir with Piano)

This setting combines the classic folk tune with Morte! Lamentations and The Banjo by America's first rock star (aka composer), Louis Moreau Gottschalk.  Alabama (or Buffalo or California...) Gal provides the perfect opportunity to feature an amazing accompanist while teaching students about counting 16th notes, singing arpeggiated triads, and changing tempos.  Not to mention exploring Gottschalk's wild and crazy life.  I've also provided an optional second part with limited range, perfect for boys with changing voices.  

Holy God, We Praise Thy Name (2-part with piano)

Commissioned for the 10th Anniversary Diocese of Lexington Area Choir Concert, this setting of the classic hymn features a fantasia-style piano accompaniment supporting ethereal, accessible vocal lines.  Marrying old (chant notation and canon) with new (aleatorism) techniques, it celebrates both tradition and innovation.  Score

Il est bel et bon (2-part, a cappella)

This is an arrangement of the infamous chanson for two-part chorus.  A cappella and accessible, it’s a great introduction to the genre for young singers.  Score

Wade in the Water (SACB Flexible Choir with piano)

This jazz-inspired arrangement features a fantastic accompaniment that is written so that no improvisation is necessary (though in this style, it is always welcome).  A cambiata part is included for boys with changing voices, and the arrangement is designed for maximum flexibility—SA, SSA, TB, SAB, SACB, and unison are all possible.  Given the history of spirituals and the continuing consequences of the injustice that surrounded their creation, I will donate half of the proceeds from this arrangement to the NAACP Legal Deffense Fund.  Score

High School

All Things New (SATB, AT solos, and string quartet or piano)

All Things New was commissioned by Nicholas John Nickl to commemorate his ordination as a deacon.  It allegorizes a near universal desire to improve upon our present condition and each individual's role in infusing life on earth with the love, joy, and peace of heaven.  Video Piano Score

Der Erlkönig (SATB with piano)

This setting of Schubert's haunting lied uses unique choral voicings to portray the four different roles present in Goethe's poem.  The accompaniment has been simplified, but it still works with the original (assuming you have an accompanist who can play what Schubert wrote).  Score

Fire and Ice (SSATB, a cappella)

Fire and Ice takes Robert Frost’s well-known poem and weaves it into a dialogue—at times an argument—inviting both choir and audience to take sides.  Because the text is so familiar, I didn’t concern myself with clarity in its setting, instead focusing on the similar vowel sounds central to key words.  This leaves the conclusion up to the audience’s decision, even as late as the final chord, where both fire and ice sound simultaneously.  Score Video 

Four Irish Folk Songs (SATB with celtic band)

The Huntsville Community Chorus commissioned a set of Irish folk songs for their 2010 program, An Irish Spring.  Parting Glass, Rocky Road to Dublin, and St. Brendan’s Fair Isle were performed in collaboration with the amazing celtic band, Slipjig.  Auld Lang Syne was added for A Celtic Christmas a few years later. I’ve never published the scores due to their novelty, but I’d love for someone else to use them!  Contact me for details.

Green Is the Color of Its Flame (SATB with Piano)

Commissioned for an April 2018 premiere, Green Is the Color of Its Flame celebrates spring with fanfares, flourishes, and fresh life!  Pianistic writing underscores approachable vocal lines proclaiming Henry David Thoreau's inspiring text from Walden.  Set your audience ablaze with the fire of life!  Score available following the premiere.  Contact me for details.

I’m Gonna Sing (SATB, a cappella)

Commissioned to mark the celebration of their 30th anniversary by the Roane Choral Society, this spirited setting is sure to bring down the house.  Score

Kyrie from Redemption Mass (SSATB with SATB soloists, wind quintet, piano, and percussion)

This accessible, yet haunting Kyrie references ancient chants.  It is the opening movement of Redemption Mass, 2013 American Choral Directors Association Brock Memorial Student Composition Competition winner.  Score Video with Winds Video with Strings (Begins at 1:19:14)

Minstrel Boy (SATB with piano)

Commissioned for the Huntsville Community Chorus Association's An Irish Spring Concert (2010), this dramatic setting uses voices and piano to imitate traditional Irish instruments.  A favorite of service personnel, the traditional Irish air is perfect for tributes and memorials.  Score TTBB Video

O nata lux (SATB, a cappella)

This poignant, stark setting of the classic text was written in memory of those lost on September 11, 2001 and premiered by Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective (2015).  Score Video

Presidential Campaign Songs Medley (SATB with various soloists and piano)

Before there were 30-second attack ads, there were Presidential Campaign Songs!  This arrangement, commissioned and premiered by the Huntsville Community Chorus Association in 2008, is perfect for patriotic concerts during election years (and any other time when history or satire is on the program).  Featuring consistent themes of American politics (drunkenness, character assassination, patriotism, and optimism), take a tour of the best and worst of presidential campaigns.  Score

Sanctus from Redemption Mass (SSATB with SATB soloists, wind quintet or Strings, piano, and percussion)

This uplifting song of praise uses ostinato to recreate an environment of praise and prayer depicted in Isaiah 6.  It is the fourth movement of Redemption Mass, 2013 American Choral Directors Association Brock Memorial Student Composition Competition winner.  Score Video with Winds Video with Strings (Begins at 1:31:21)

Song in the Air (SATB with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

We Are the Music Makers (SATB with piano)

This accessible setting brings O'Shaughnessy's famous text to life through lush harmonies, word painting, and exciting fanfares.  Dedicated to the Randolph High School Class of 2011, and premiered by their Concert Choir in the Commencement Ceremonies.  Please know that the accompaniment looks and sounds a LOT harder than it is to play (though it’s admittedly not super easy).  Score Video

…with music…  (SATB with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  Score

Collegiate

All Things New (SATB, AT soloists, and string quartet or piano)

All Things New was commissioned by Nicholas John Nickl to commemorate his ordination as a deacon.  It allegorizes a near universal desire to improve upon our present condition and each individual's role in infusing life on earth with the love, joy, and peace of heaven.  Video Piano Score

Fire and Ice (SSATB, a cappella)

Fire and Ice takes Robert Frost’s well-known poem and weaves it into a dialogue—at times an argument—inviting both choir and audience to take sides.  Because the text is so familiar, I didn’t concern myself with clarity in its setting, instead focusing on the similar vowel sounds central to key words.  This leaves the conclusion up to the audience’s decision, even as late as the final chord, where both fire and ice sound simultaneously.  Score Video

Four Irish Folk Songs (SATB with Celtic Band)

The Huntsville Community Chorus commissioned a set of Irish folk songs for their 2010 program, An Irish Spring.  Parting Glass, Rocky Road to Dublin, and St. Brendan’s Fair Isle were performed in collaboration with the amazing celtic band, Slipjig.  Auld Lang Syne was added for A Celtic Christmas a few years later. I’ve never published the scores due to their novelty, but I’d love for someone else to use them!  Contact me for details.

Green Is the Color of Its Flame (SATB with Piano)

Commissioned for an April 2018 premiere, Green Is the Color of Its Flame celebrates spring with fanfares, flourishes, and fresh life!  Pianistic writing underscores approachable vocal lines proclaiming Henry David Thoreau's inspiring text from Walden.  Set your audience ablaze with the fire of life!  Score available following the premiere.  Contact me for details.

I’m Gonna Sing (SATB, a cappella)

Commissioned to mark the celebration of their 30th anniversary by the Roane Choral Society, this spirited setting is sure to bring down the house.  Score

Lacrimas (SATB, S soloist, a cappella)

Lacrimas weaves the familiar Psalm text, "They that sow in tears will reap in joy" into a poignant moment from St. Augustine's confessions: "And sending out tears, where I was holding them in, so that they should flow so smoothly, they spread out beneath my heart and it rests on them."  Musically, the piece develops in waves that emanate from the opening “sobbing” gesture.  Rest finally arrives in the final, optimistic, upward resolution.  The University of Alabama in Huntsville Chamber Choir premiered the work under the direction of Dr. Erin Colwitz-Dehning as part of the Huntsville New Music Festival of 2011.  Score Video

Masters in This Hall (SSAATTBB, a cappella)

This exuberant carol unfolds like gossip crossing the hills.  Whispers gradually grow into song as news of the newborn savior traverses the globe.  Premiered by the Mercer Singers of Mercer University for the 2002 Southeastern Composers League Conference.  Score

Minstrel Boy (SATB with piano)

Commissioned for the Huntsville Community Chorus Association's An Irish Spring Concert (2010), this dramatic setting uses voices and piano to imitate traditional Irish instruments.  A favorite of service personnel, the Irish Air is perfect for tributes and memorials.  Score TTBB Video

O nata lux (SATB, a cappella)

This poignant, stark setting of the classic text was written in memory of those lost on September 11, 2001 and premiered by Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective (2015).  Score Video

A Parable of Choices (SATB, ST soloists, a cappella)

A Parable of Choices won the 2013 Yale Glee Club Emerging Composers Competition.  Its text alternates between Wilfred Owen's gripping anti-war poem, The Parable of the Old Man and the Young and Genesis 22, verses 8 and 13.  The parable presents a relentlessly confrontational choice:  humility vs pride; life vs. death; peace vs. war.  Though one may see it as a rebuke of national hubris, these concepts resonate most vibrantly for me when held up to the daily decisions of life.  In our habits of commerce, travel, communication, and the like, may we move consistently toward humility, life, and peace.  Video Score

Presidential Campaign Songs Medley (SATB with various soloists and piano)

Before there were 30-second attack ads, there were Presidential Campaign Songs!  This arrangement, commissioned and premiered by the Huntsville Community Chorus Association in 2008, is perfect for patriotic concerts during election years (and any other time when history or satire is on the program).  Featuring consistent themes of American politics (drunkenness, character assassination, patriotism, and optimism), take a tour of the best and worst of presidential campaigns.  Score

Redemption Mass (SSATB with SATB soloists, wind quintet or Strings, piano, and percussion)

Winner of the 2013 American Choral Directors Association Brock Memorial Student Composition Competition, this concert mass is a tuneful, rhythmic, and inspiring setting of traditional and non-traditional texts.  Premiered by the Blue Valley Northwest High School Choirs and Symphonic Orchestra on January 25, 2018, Beth Richey-Sullivan and Michael Arbucci, directors. Vocal Score Video (First Four Movements with Winds) Video (Complete Premiere with Strings, Begins at 1:19:14)

Sinner, Please (SSAATTBB, a cappella)

Sinner, Please is an intense plea for reconciliation, but it is also a reference to the urgency of the Underground Railroad.  May this song remind us that time is fleeting and that we must make the most of what little we have.  Score

…with music…  (SATB with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  Score

Adult/Professional

All Things New (SATB, AT soloists, and string quartet or piano)

All Things New was commissioned by Nicholas John Nickl to commemorate his ordination as a deacon.  It allegorizes a near universal desire to improve upon our present condition and each individual's role in infusing life on earth with the love, joy, and peace of heaven.  Video Piano Score

Green Is the Color of Its Flame (SATB with Piano)

Commissioned for an April 2018 premiere, Green Is the Color of Its Flame celebrates spring with fanfares, flourishes, and fresh life!  Pianistic writing underscores approachable vocal lines proclaiming Henry David Thoreau's inspiring text from Walden.  Set your audience ablaze with the fire of life!  Score available following the premiere.  Contact me for details.

Lacrimas (SATB, S soloist, a cappella)

Lacrimas weaves the familiar Psalm text, "They that sow in tears will reap in joy" into a poignant moment from St. Augustine's confessions: "And sending out tears, where I was holding them in, so that they should flow so smoothly, they spread out beneath my heart and it rests on them."  Musically, the piece develops in waves that emanate from the opening “sobbing” gesture.  Rest finally arrives in the final, optimistic, upward resolution.  The University of Alabama in Huntsville Chamber Choir premiered the work under the direction of Dr. Erin Colwitz-Dehning as part of the Huntsville New Music Festival of 2011.  Score Video

Masters in This Hall (SSAATTBB, a cappella)

This exuberant carol unfolds like gossip crossing the hills.  Whispers gradually grow into song as news of the newborn savior traverses the globe.  Premiered by the Mercer Singers of Mercer University for the 2002 Southeastern Composers League Conference.  Score

O nata lux (SATB, a cappella)

This poignant, stark setting of the classic text was written in memory of those lost on September 11, 2001 and premiered by Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective (2015).  Score Video

Redemption Mass (SSATB with SATB soloists, wind quintet or strings, piano, and percussion)

Winner of the 2013 American Choral Directors Association Brock Memorial Student Composition Competition, this concert mass is a tuneful, rhythmic, and inspiring setting of traditional and non-traditional texts.  Premiered by the Blue Valley Northwest High School Choirs and Symphonic Orchestra on January 25, 2018, Beth Richey-Sullivan and Michael Arbucci, directors. Vocal Score Video (First Four Movements with Winds) Video (Complete Premiere with Strings Begins at 1:19:14)

Sinner, Please (SSAATTBB, a cappella)

Sinner, Please is an intense plea for reconciliation, but it is also a reference to the urgency of the Underground Railroad.  May this song remind us that time is fleeting and that we must make the most of what little we have.  Score

…with music…  (SATB with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  Score

Adult/Community

All Things New (SATB, AT soloists, and string quartet or piano)

All Things New was commissioned by Nicholas John Nickl to commemorate his ordination as a deacon.  It allegorizes a near universal desire to improve upon our present condition and each individual's role in infusing life on earth with the love, joy, and peace of heaven.  Video Piano Score

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (SATB with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  Score

Der Erlkönig (SATB with piano)

This setting of Schubert's haunting lied uses unique choral voicings to portray the four different roles present in Goethe's poem.  The accompaniment has been simplified, but it still works with the original (assuming you have an accompanist who can play what Schubert wrote).  Score 

Fire and Ice (SSATB, a cappella)

Fire and Ice takes Robert Frost’s well-known poem and weaves it into a dialogue—at times an argument—inviting both choir and audience to take sides.  Because the text is so familiar, I didn’t concern myself with clarity in its setting, instead focusing on the similar vowel sounds central to key words.  This leaves the conclusion up to the audience’s decision, even as late as the final chord, where both fire and ice sound simultaneously.  Score Video

Four Irish Folk Songs (SATB with celtic band)

The Huntsville Community Chorus commissioned a set of Irish folk songs for their 2010 program, An Irish Spring.  Parting Glass, Rocky Road to Dublin, and St. Brendan’s Fair Isle were performed in collaboration with the amazing celtic band, Slipjig.  Auld Lang Syne was added for A Celtic Christmas a few years later. I’ve never published the scores due to their novelty, but I’d love for someone else to use them!  Contact me for details.

Green Is the Color of Its Flame (SATB with Piano)

Commissioned for an April 2018 premiere, Green Is the Color of Its Flame celebrates spring with fanfares, flourishes, and fresh life!  Pianistic writing underscores approachable vocal lines proclaiming Henry David Thoreau's inspiring text from Walden.  Set your audience ablaze with the fire of life!  Score available following the premiere.  Contact me for details.

I’m Gonna Sing (SATB, a cappella)

Commissioned to mark the celebration of their 30th anniversary by the Roane Choral Society, this spirited setting is sure to bring down the house.  Score

Minstrel Boy (SATB with piano)

Commissioned for the Huntsville Community Chorus Association's An Irish Spring Concert (2010), this dramatic setting uses voices and piano to imitate traditional Irish instruments.  A favorite of service personnel, the Irish air is perfect for tributes and memorials.  Score TTBB Video

O nata lux (SATB, a cappella)

This poignant, stark setting of the classic text was written in memory of those lost on September 11, 2001 and premiered by Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective (2015).  Score Video

Presidential Campaign Songs Medley (SATB with various soloists and piano)

Before there were 30-second attack ads, there were Presidential Campaign Songs!  This arrangement, commissioned and premiered by the Huntsville Community Chorus Association in 2008, is perfect for patriotic concerts during election years (and any other time when history or satire is on the program).  Featuring consistent themes of American politics (drunkenness, character assassination, patriotism, and optimism), take a tour of the best and worst of presidential campaigns.  Score

Redemption Mass (SSATB with SATB soloists, wind quintet or Strings, piano, and percussion)

Winner of the 2013 American Choral Directors Association Brock Memorial Student Composition Competition, this concert mass is a tuneful, rhythmic, and inspiring setting of traditional and non-traditional texts.  Premiered by the Blue Valley Northwest High School Choirs and Symphonic Orchestra on January 25, 2018, Beth Richey-Sullivan and Michael Arbucci, directors. Vocal Score Video (First Four Movements with Winds) Video (Complete Premiere with Strings Begins at 1:19:14)

Song in the Air (SATB with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

We Are the Music Makers (SATB with piano)

This accessible setting brings O'Shaughnessy's famous text to life through lush harmonies, word painting, and exciting fanfares.  Dedicated to the Randolph High School Class of 2011, and premiered by their Concert Choir in the Commencement Ceremonies.  Please know that the accompaniment looks and sounds a LOT harder than it is to play (though it’s admittedly not super easy).  Score Video

…with music…  (SATB with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  Score

Adult/Church

All Things New (SATB, AT soloists, and string quartet or piano)

All Things New was commissioned by Nicholas John Nickl to commemorate his ordination as a deacon.  It allegorizes a near universal desire to improve upon our present condition and each individual's role in infusing life on earth with the love, joy, and peace of heaven.  Video Piano Score

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (SATB with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  SATB Score (Contact me for SAB SCORE)

Holy God, We Praise Thy Name (2-part with piano)

Commissioned for the 10th Anniversary Diocese of Lexington Area Choir Concert, this setting of the classic hymn features a fantasia-style piano accompaniment supporting ethereal, accessible vocal lines.  Marrying old (chant notation and canon) with new (aleatorism) techniques, it celebrates both tradition and innovation.  Score

I’m Gonna Sing (SATB, a cappella)

Commissioned to mark the celebration of their 30th anniversary by the Roane Choral Society, this spirited setting is sure to bring down the house.  Score

O nata lux (SATB, a cappella)

This poignant, stark setting of the classic text was written in memory of those lost on September 11, 2001 and premiered by Triad: Boston’s Choral Collective (2015).  Score  Video

Redemption Mass (SSATB with SATB soloists, wind quintet or Strings, piano, and percussion)

Winner of the 2013 American Choral Directors Association Brock Memorial Student Composition Competition, this concert mass is a tuneful, rhythmic, and inspiring setting of traditional and non-traditional texts.  Premiered by the Blue Valley Northwest High School Choirs and Symphonic Orchestra on January 25, 2018, Beth Richey-Sullivan and Michael Arbucci, directors. Vocal Score Video (First Four Movements with Winds) Video (Complete Premiere with Strings Begins at 1:19:14)

Song in the Air (SATB with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

Student/Church

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (SATB with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  SATB Score  (Contact me for the SAB score.)

Holy God, We Praise Thy Name (2-part with piano)

Commissioned for the 10th Anniversary Diocese of Lexington Area Choir Concert, this setting of the classic hymn features a fantasia-style piano accompaniment supporting ethereal, accessible vocal lines.  Marrying old (chant notation and canon) with new (aleatorism) techniques, it celebrates both tradition and innovation.  Score

Song in the Air (SATB with piano)

This haunting Appalachian melody captures the peaceful magic of the first Christmas morning.  Written for and premiered by the Randolph School Concert Choir, it is among my most often performed arrangements.  Score

Wade in the Water (SACB Flexible Choir with piano)

This jazz-inspired arrangement features a fantastic accompaniment that is written so that no improvisation is necessary (though in this style, it is always welcome).  A cambiata part is included for boys with changing voices, and the arrangement is designed for maximum flexibility—SA, SSA, TB, SAB, SACB, and unison are all possible.  Given the history of spirituals and the continuing consequences of the injustice that surrounded their creation, I will donate half of the proceeds from this arrangement to the NAACP Legal Deffense Fund.  Score

TTBB Choirs

High School

Alabama Gal (Unison or 2-pt Choir with Piano)

This setting combines the classic folk tune with Morte! Lamentations and The Banjo by America's first rock star (aka composer), Louis Moreau Gottschalk.  Alabama (or Buffalo or California...) Gal provides the perfect opportunity to feature an amazing accompanist while teaching students about counting 16th notes, singing arpeggiated triads, and changing tempos.  Not to mention exploring Gottschalk's wild and crazy life.  I've also provided an optional second part with limited range, perfect for boys with changing voices.  

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (TBB with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  Score

Il est bel et bon (2-part, a cappella)

This is an arrangement of the infamous chanson for two-part chorus.  A cappella and accessible, it’s a great introduction to the genre for young singers.  Score

Minstrel Boy (TTBB with piano)

This arrangement was commissioned for the University of Kentucky Men’s Chorus and uses voices and piano to imitate traditional Irish instruments.  A favorite of service personnel, the Irish air is perfect for tributes and memorials.  Score Video

Wade in the Water (SACB Flexible Choir with piano)

This jazz-inspired arrangement features a fantastic accompaniment that is written so that no improvisation is necessary (though in this style, it is always welcome).  A cambiata part is included for boys with changing voices, and the arrangement is designed for maximum flexibility—SA, SSA, TB, SAB, SACB, and unison are all possible.  Given the history of spirituals and the continuing consequences of the injustice that surrounded their creation, I will donate half of the proceeds from this arrangement to the NAACP Legal Deffense Fund.  Score

We Are the Music Makers (TTBB with piano)

This accessible setting brings O'Shaughnessy's famous text to life through lush harmonies, word painting, and exciting fanfares.  Dedicated to the Randolph High School Class of 2011, and premiered by their Concert Choir in the Commencement Ceremonies.  Please know that the accompaniment looks and sounds a LOT harder than it is to play (though it’s admittedly not super easy).  ScoreSATB Video

…with music…  (TTBB with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  Score

Collegiate

Alabama Gal (Unison Choir with Piano)

This setting combines the classic folk tune with Morte! Lamentations and The Banjo by America's first rock star (aka composer), Louis Moreau Gottschalk.  Alabama (or Buffalo or California...) Gal provides the perfect opportunity to feature an amazing accompanist while teaching students about counting 16th notes, singing arpeggiated triads, and changing tempos.  Not to mention exploring Gottschalk's wild and crazy life.  Score 

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (TBB with piano and congas)

This arrangement features a fresh rhythmic take on the classic hymntune. Using subtle text-painting, it presents the text in a meaningful, creative way. The piece was composed for and premiered by the University of Tennessee Women's Chorale.  Score

Minstrel Boy (TTBB with piano)

This arrangement was commissioned for the University of Kentucky Men’s Chorus and uses voices and piano to imitate traditional Irish instruments.  A favorite of service personnel, the Irish air is perfect for tributes and memorials.  Score Video

We Are the Music Makers (TTBB with piano)

This accessible setting brings O'Shaughnessy's famous text to life through lush harmonies, word painting, and exciting fanfares.  Dedicated to the Randolph High School Class of 2011, and premiered by their Concert Choir in the Commencement Ceremonies.  Please know that the accompaniment looks and sounds a LOT harder than it is to play (though it’s admittedly not super easy).  Score SATB Video

…with music…  (TTBB with piano)

Commissioned and premiered by Louisville's Youth Performing Arts School Gentlemen's Ensemble, under the direction of Jacob Cook for the Intercollegiate Male Chorus Festival of 2014 hosted by Rutgers University.  This work combines two previously unpublished songs by Kentucky Composer (and graduate of Louisville's Manual High School) John Jacob Niles.  Come Gentle Dark and Epitaph provide a poignant look into the composer's later views on life and death interwoven with beautiful melodies and subtle harmonic surprises.  Score

I am beyond excited to announce that my most recent composition, A Parable of Choices has won the Yale Glee Club 2017 Emerging Composers Competition.  This is a tremendous blessing and honor, and I look forward to hearing the Glee Club premiere the work during their 2017-2018 season.  (More details on that as they are available.)

This work grew from a seed planted at the University of Kentucky.  A few years ago, I was part of a performance of Benjamin Britten's War Requiem there, and found myself haunted by Wilfred Owen's poem, The Parable of the Old Man and the Young, which is a part of the Offertorium.  My first response was to proclaim, "but that's not what happened!"  In time, I realized that Owen agreed with me.  In a sense, he was saying, "and it doesn't have to happen now either."  

Unfortunately, Owen's ending has played out many times in the years since Abraham spared Isaac, perhaps more frequently than its Biblical parallel.  I wanted to share his warning with the world—preferably in a format that wouldn't require 400 musicians.  A Parable of Choices is the product of that desire, combining Owen's text with verses from the original story in Genesis 22.  This juxtaposition encourages the listener—and indeed the composer—to reflect regularly on which ending we will choose for ourselves.

In the years since my first experience with the War Requiem, Owen's words have only become more prescient.  May we all, both individually and globally, choose humility, grace, and love in every opportunity.

I have to give a special shout-out to my dear friend David Harris for his feedback and encouragement during the composition process as well as to Dr. Jefferson Johnson and Maestro John Nardolillo for opening my eyes to the depth of the War Requiem.  

I've included the text and translation of the composition below, just in case you're curious.

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?

Deus providebit sibi victimam holocausti fili mi pergebant ergo pariter.
("God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son."  And the two of them went on together.)

Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
and builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretchèd forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;

Levavit Abraham oculos viditque post tergum arietem inter vepres herentem cornibus.
(Abraham looked up and there in a thicket, he saw a ram caught by its horns.)

Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.

Quem adsumens obtulit holocausti pro filio.
(He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son.)

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.

And Abraham said, "My son, God will provide Himself a lamb for a burnt offering."

One by one...

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.

Feel free to peruse the score at Musicspoke.com.

Leonid Perlovsky, a physics and cognition researcher, suggests that music allows us to deal with cognitive dissonance by helping us to concentrate on challenging questions for a sustained period of time.  Additionally, music helps us to achieve “social cohesion” by teaching humans how to work together. 

In my experience, such effects are magnified in a choir.  Imagine the difference between a soloist, whose successful performance rests on a single pair of shoulders, versus an ensemble of voices where one person can miss a note but recover stealthily by listening to others singing the same part.  One world requires absolute perfection, while another allows for the occasional mistake without sacrificing a powerful end product.  I can hardly think of a better metaphor for building a successful society.

Additionally, studying music aids children in their “emotional and behavioral maturation”.  The evidence for this claim is focused mainly on students in private lessons, but one might assume that learning in a group setting could amplify the effect.  Ensemble experiences teach musicians to balance musical fidelity with love and respect for the other members of the ensemble. 

Furthermore, research confirms that singing together is one of the most effective ways “to forge feelings of connection and inclusion”.  Throughout history, group singing contributed to human populations growing and thriving “by encouraging a large number of people to work for the common good.”

If you’ve ever expressed concern over the future of our species or planet, perhaps this is your cue to start singing.  You’ll help yourself to feel better, but you’ll also be building bridges to your fellow singers.  Overdosing on music today is a good way to ensure that our future selves won’t have to worry about overdosing on synthetic empathy.

A few weeks ago, some of my colleagues at Curry College invited me to address their classes on the topic of identity as a composer.  I stood next to a photographer, a visual artist, and a dancer discussing a topic that frankly, I hadn’t spent enough time considering.  I rambled through some of the themes that show up in a lot of my work, but I found myself grasping to define my compositional identity.  I think this is largely because I’ve always approached composing as something I enjoy, not as something that defines me.  Like most artists, I seek to share meaning, but at my core, I’m just having a good time!

That experience got me to thinking a bit more deeply about why I do what I do.  In the process, I’ve reflected on various bits of advice, encouragement, and challenge that have crossed my path over the years, and I thought I’d share some of the collective wisdom that has shaped the identity I’m just starting to understand.

If you like music and something else, do something else.
—Kenneth A. Jacobs

Dr. Jacobs was my first and only “official” composition teacher, and I learned a lot of practical lessons from him.  (“If it’s worth doing once, it’s worth doing more than once!”  “Is that another sleazy ostinato?”  I could go on for days…)  But the quote above is one of the most important lessons.  Music is hard.  It will always be hard.  As a career, it’s only fit for those who are willing to endure the challenge over the long haul.  If you find something else fulfilling, chances are it will be easier.  Do that.  But if music—especially composition—is your passion, hang on and enjoy the ride.  Which brings me to another of my mentors…

Never be afraid to do it the right way. 
—Angela Batey

While she was talking about committing fully to the style of whichever piece of music was in front of the choir at that particular moment, the lesson extends to composition (and teaching and life) as well.  Don’t be afraid to write what needs to be written, even if—especially if—no one else has done it that way before. 

“Make ‘em laugh; make ‘em cry.”  
—Jefferson Johnson

Apt advice for programming concerts, but also for writing music.  From this, I remember not to take myself so seriously all the time, and more importantly, to seek variety in the music I create.  I’ve also established my own corollary:  “Make ‘em think.”  If I accomplish nothing else with any given piece of music, then I’ll consider my job well done.

People walk into concert halls as they walk into emergency rooms, in need of healing. They may bring a broken body to a hospital, but they often bring with them to the concert a mind that is overwhelmed, a soul that is weary. Whether they go out whole again depends partly on how well musicians do their craft.
—Karl Paulnack

Karl reminds me to work hard at composing.  Leave no note unchallenged.  Though I can’t take myself too seriously, I must take my music seriously.  This is one of many essential balancing acts for every artist.

Connect, George.  Connect!
I have to finish the hat.
—Stephen Sondheim via 19th century George in Sunday in the Park with George

Connect, George.  Connect!
Say ‘cheese,’ George, | And put them at their ease, George. | You’re up on the trapeze, George. | Machines don’t grow on trees, George. | Start putting it together…
—Stephen Sondheim via modern George in Sunday in the Park with George

Stop worrying if your vision | Is new. | Let others make that decision— | They usually do. |
You keep moving on.
—Stephen Sondheim via Dot in Sunday in the Park with George

Sunday in the Park with George has been an artistic touchstone since I participated in the UA Huntsville production in 2011.  I played the second keyboard part of Move On from memory every night because I was crying and couldn’t see my score.  I had just decided to leave Huntsville to start my doctoral studies at Kentucky, and almost no one knew but me. 

Additionally, I identify with yet another balancing act:  be relevant enough so people can “get” what you’re saying, and yet new and different enough to justify your methods.  The world doesn’t need another Beethoven or Mozart; the world needs something new…but not TOO new.  Richard Burchard summed up his approach to this conundrum (and I’m paraphrasing) by commenting on how much he loves both Renaissance polyphony and modern harmonies.  He particularly enjoys (and is quite good at) combining the two. 

I’d like to think that I’m the perfect blend of 19th-century George and modern George, but if I’m honest, I’m probably not quite either.  I guess you could say that I’m still “putting it together.”

Write the music that only you can write.
—Kurt Knecht

This gem popped onto my radar only a few days ago, but it has stuck with me.  It comes on the heels of struggling to justify the time and effort it takes to write something new.  I mean, who am I to suggest that my voice should compete with Bach, Brahms, Tormis, Gershwin, Boulanger (Lili, of course), or Ravel?  Even Ravel once declined Gershwin's request for composition lessons by asking, “Why should you be a second-rate Ravel when you can be a first-rate Gershwin?” 

Yet, perhaps the problem is that we composers often don’t ask that question honestly.  We expect the answer to be, “I can’t compete, so why should I even try?”  When actually, the better answer might be, “We aren’t competing.  They’re dead.”  In their time, I’m sure they were asking similar questions.  Even the great and seemingly über-confident Beethoven doubted his abilities at least once in his life. 

Really, isn’t all of music—all of art—commentary on what has come before?  In my heart of hearts, this is my identity:  I am an observer.  I observe music historical, including the greats mentioned above.  I observe the world around me:  behavior, need, alterity, pain, joy, love, hate...  I observe the notes that end up on my metaphorical manuscript paper (now known as a computer screen).  I observe what I hear:  what I like, and what I don’t.  In all of these observations, I have the privilege, opportunity, and responsibility to practice living—really living—without the risk of dying.  This is the essence of art.

If I hold to these principles, perhaps a version of that last statement will find its way onto my tombstone and into my obituary.  Then, when I am laid in earth, I’ll have at least one thing in common with the “greats” I mentioned earlier, though it probably won’t be fame.*  I think I’m coming to terms with the identity of "one who really lived".  Now to make it happen.

BTW, join Triad: Boston's Choral Collective for our concerts on April 8 and 9 (2017) as we explore how composers use "Subversive Tonality" to react and comment on the common musical language passed down for generations.  More details can be found here.

*Nobody in choral music—not even Eric Whitacre—is truly “famous”.  Don’t believe me?  Ask a random stranger who’s never sung in a choir who Eric Whitacre is.  Chances are, a good number of choral singers won’t know his name either, and I doubt there’s another living composer of choral music who’s better known than he is.  We'd best come to terms with doing what we love for the love of what we do.  Fame is a terrible master.

Particular thanks to https://maggiebeephotography.com/ for allowing me to share some of the photos she took during the rehearsal!

Some of my most formative and memorable musical experiences have taken place at conferences of the American Choral Directors Association (ACDA).  From the University of Louisville’s breathtaking performance of Raua Needmine in Los Angeles, to performing with the University of Kentucky Men’s Chorus in Winston-Salem, to the Keystone State Boychoir radiating pure joy in Boston last year, these conferences offer an opportunity to refresh my creative spirit, inspire my central self (see The Art of Possibility by Zander and Zander for details on that term), and remind me of why I do what I do.  Music—choral music in particular—is all about communication, and at ACDA, communication at the highest possible level.  Hundreds of voices unite in artistry, symbolism, and beauty.  When met with vulnerability and openness, the result is pure magic.

However, ACDA conferences sometimes appeal to the calculating self as well (again, see Zander and Zander), and I’d be lying if I claimed I had never succumbed to that temptation.  When surrounded by the best in the business, one can easily resent the successes of others and whine about one’s own situation (whether or not whining is even justified by said situation).  What looks like venting or “being real” is often just ungratefulness in disguise.

I’ve sat with colleagues in concerts of amazing and beautiful music, nit-picking the tiniest details.  After all, 

How many choir directors does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

 Five.

One to screw it in and four others to discuss how they would have done it better.

(There’s an alternate answer that explains, “No one will ever know, because no one watches the director.”)  

Instead of appreciating and being thankful for the stunning gift of music, I have all-too-often focused on the oddly-colored ribbons, unusual wrapping paper, or missing name card.  This is the kind of behavior that would cause a child to spend half of Christmas Day standing in the corner rather than playing with new toys.  Maybe ACDA needs to reserve a corner of the concert hall specifically for the Negative Nicks and Nancys among us!

Beyond what I’ve lost by engaging in these negative conversations, what have I ever gained from them?  Not one bloody thing.  While I might “feel” superior for a moment, being so needlessly and overly critical destroys an opportunity to enjoy, to love, to cry, to laugh, or to be human, offering little more than bitterness in return.  I’ve been told not to let anyone steal my joy, but what they really need to tell me is not to steal my own joy!

Recently Becca Kenneally told the MassACDA Intercollegiate Choral Festival participants, “From here on out, doing what you love will have to be a conscious choice.  No one is going to tell you to do the things you love.”  Her wisdom has stuck with me, and I’ve shared it with several of my students.  I teach on a campus that is walking distance from one of the most beautiful parks in Massachusetts, including over 90 miles of hiking trails, and do you know how many times I’ve been told to take a hike?  None (excepting the times when it was meant metaphorically).  Do you know how many times I’ve taken a hike through the Blue Hills Reservation?  Once.  IN THREE YEARS!!!!!  How in the world is this possible?  Because I didn’t choose to do something that I love, and nobody is going to tell me to do it! 

At this ACDA National Conference, I will make a bold declaration in the hopes that my friends and colleagues will join me and hold me accountable.  

• I will choose to love.  

• I will choose to be grateful.  

• I will choose to seek joy, meaning, and significance.  

• In short, I will choose to be human, because this is what art is all about.

Other books that have shaped my thoughts on this topic:  Mindset by Carol Dwyer and Rethinking “Art” by Steve Shipps

In the morning, I was tasked with leading the first rehearsal of the piece, and it didn't go very well.  In my arrogance, I knew (there's that word again) it was because the choir wasn't watching.  (What choir director hasn't assumed that once or twice or a million times?)  I encouraged the choir to look up, and in later rehearsals, our synchronization improved, but never quite gelled.  I offered my expectations on pronunciation, tempo, and other elements of interpretation based on prior experiences.  After all, I knew this piece.

When our clinician for the day, Dr. Dennis Slaughter, took over after lunch, I realized that I didn't know as much as I knew I knew.  :-)  First, his tempo was WAY too slow.  And then he made a big deal about the consonants--something I had tried to downplay.  And he didn't pay tons of attention to the rhythmic idiosyncrasies that "made" the arrangement for me.

Instead, he encouraged students to find the inner rhythm of the text.  Every sound had its own syllable.  Every word had its place in the phrase.  All of a sudden, the piece that I thought of as an old, familiar friend suddenly became my teacher.  The piece had depth that I had never heard and rhythmic complexity I had never even considered.

In short, I thought I knew Witness last Friday, but now I KNOW that I know Witness...at least until someone demonstrates a better way to do it.

In all of this, the real lesson is something I've known all along, but rarely stopped to contemplate.  In music, and in life, there is rarely a single "right" way to do anything.  The moment we think we've figured out how something works, someone will come along with a different explanation and turn our most favored ideas upside down.  (Wouldn't you love to ask Newton what he thinks of Einstein?)  If we're willing to accept some humility, we stand to learn a lot and become better artists--better humans.  

Honestly, I needed a slice of humble pie, and I was fortunate that Dr. Slaughter was a skilled chef.

P.S.  One of my students pointed out the irony that last year's clinician was Dr. Cutter, and this year's clinician was Dr. Slaughter.  Is there a Dr. Bomber we can invite next year?  Maybe we should do a medley from Sweeney Todd!

Written by a community living under unimaginable oppression, the lyrics remind us to be ready at a moment's notice for whatever opportunities may—or may not—arise.  Those participating in the song's composition had survived forced migration to the coasts of Africa, while as many as 30% of those captured did not.  They survived the crossing of the Atlantic, while as many as 30% of those on board the boats did not.  They survived hunger, deprivation, families being split apart, beatings without cause, and worst of all, the insult of living as property.  And still they sang, "Keep your lamps trimmed and burning, the time is drawing nigh."  I believe these slaves understood far more about theology, faith, and the fruit of the spirit than any of their so-called "Christian" masters.

I'm sometimes tempted to complain about this or that, usually some minor annoyance that I'll forget about in a few minutes.  However, this music reminds me of the nature of hope, putting life in perspective.  It demonstrates the unbelievable breadth and depth to which human cruelty can reach and helps us to see that the effects of choices 150-200 years ago ripple into the present day.  It states emphatically that if this happened once in our history, it can happen again unless we actively and continually choose liberty and justice for all.  

May we remember our ancestor's mistakes, redouble our efforts "to bind up the nation's wounds", and not grow weary in standing watch.

The time is drawing nigh. 

Join us at 7:00 PM this Saturday for the performance.

Rose Performance Hall, Manninen Center for the Arts

Endicott College, Beverly, MA