I spend several hours each week with a church choir, ostensibly functioning as a soloist and section leader, although I can only lead as far as my section will follow. Which usually is not very far. For those unfamiliar with the culture, church choirs usually consist of volunteers that sing for weekly services. Usually members are predominantly female and the median age hovers between fifty and sixty. While I am sure there are exceptions, my current group is not among them.
As with most volunteer choruses, some folks are fairly musically skilled, former music teachers or music majors while some might not even read music, but (hopefully) have a decent enough ear that they can pick up their parts during rehearsals. While there are a few all-professional church choirs in major cities, the presence of experienced singers in a church group is usually limited to a few “ringers”, usually hired as section leaders or soloists. There are a number of reasons why churches do this. It can be because the choir is light in certain voice types--or missing them entirely. Sometimes it is just to provide leadership or to have a group of singers available for special music or solos. In some situations a church likes to have soloists or section leaders as a matter of status, usually in addition to professional instrumentalists, a resident organist and other trappings of high-church high-end music making.
My job is primarily to provide support to the soprano section, sing the occasional solo and perform with the other three section leaders as a quartet from time to time. I haven’t done this kind of work in a long time for a number of reasons. First, I don’t want to “work” at church. I’d rather just find a place to worship and sing because my spirit and not my checkbook urges me. Second, having to show up every single Sunday is an absolute grind, it means no family weekends away, unless i beg for time off and then feel guilty about it. Finally, I take very seriously the role of a church musician. I was raised in a tradition where the musicians (along with members of the congregation) are “ministers” and their contribution to the service is not a performance, but a worshipful part of the service and a ministry to the congregation.
Unfortunately that checkbook strongly urges me to keep my church job at this point and so I go. Some days I experience something that approaches the fellowship of community and college music makers from my past, the kind of camaraderie that comes from a wide range of people all working toward a common goal. Other days, such as the time a jealous church member kept scooting away, insisting I smelled like Chinese food (I had just showered before coming to rehearsal and not eaten a thing) or the time a little old lady cornered me and berated me for the “sin” of singing when I was not a confirmed Catholic, make me want to count the days until I have enough other work that I can happily put myself on a sub list and make my fond farewells.
Also, I miss the Protestant tradition of “open table”. It boggles my mind that I will be singing all of Holy Week and not once will I be able to take communion. This may not sound like much to someone who is not Christian, but it deeply affects me and the connection I feel (or don’t feel) to my religion. I respect the traditions and doctrine of the Catholic church, I have no desire to take communion there, but I often wish I had a job in a church closer to my own tradition.
Beyond all this though are more troubling moral issues. When I stopped working in churches ages ago, I swore I would never again work in a church where I could not bring my gay and lesbian brothers and sisters and freely worship with them. Now I take a paycheck from a church that actively denies participation of women, not to mention homosexuals. Worse than that is the cover up of victimization of children, particularly this most recent unveiling of sexual abuse of deaf children, truly an evil, if there is any proper use for that word.
While I certainly have taken paychecks from corporations I didn’t believe in before now (law firm, anyone?) I am having a particularly difficult struggle with the current allegations of coverup and collusion regarding sexual abuse in the Catholic church. I have no doubt the people I work for and with are sickened by this situation as well and feel their own outrage, yet they have positive bonds to the church that I cannot share. For now, I keep working, I keep looking for other jobs and I pray for the victims of sexual abuse, those known and those still keeping their secrets.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Project - Day 28
JT sings
Sleep Come Free Me
and I know what he means.
Chained to consciousness, I’m trapped in the waking world
unable to dream,
barred from nocturnal inspiration.
Barring the elevation to the imagination
I object to being pinned here
awake
like a subject in a lab test
of my own devising.
This is the hour of review
for all my failures
my personal shortcomings
and relationships lost or damaged.
This dark parade of loss
I could do without.
Sleep Come Free Me
and I know what he means.
Chained to consciousness, I’m trapped in the waking world
unable to dream,
barred from nocturnal inspiration.
Barring the elevation to the imagination
I object to being pinned here
awake
like a subject in a lab test
of my own devising.
This is the hour of review
for all my failures
my personal shortcomings
and relationships lost or damaged.
This dark parade of loss
I could do without.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The Project - Day 27
Instead of writing a page of creative things or stupid things or whatever, tonight I wrote invoices. Sometimes it’s about getting paid.
I knew I had grown up when I no longer felt I had to apologize for asking to be paid. I still feel bitchy about it sometimes, but really, if you do not demand to be paid for your time and experience, people will presume you do not know what you are doing. And so, back to the salt mines! Half baked inspiration will have to wait.
I knew I had grown up when I no longer felt I had to apologize for asking to be paid. I still feel bitchy about it sometimes, but really, if you do not demand to be paid for your time and experience, people will presume you do not know what you are doing. And so, back to the salt mines! Half baked inspiration will have to wait.
Monday, March 22, 2010
The Project - Day 26
Boy at Three
It seems impossible, this dangling foot
below my knees.
The increasing weight is so incremental it can almost be denied,
but that body, long and gangling,
draped over me like a lightly snoring rug
will not be refuted.
This is childhood.
This is running and jumping and stories
and lies and fighting and telling tales.
No tell-tale soft smell of milk,
but dirt and rubber and twine create
this weighty thing I hold,
this baby gone.
My imprint, still so small, it cannot grow,
the fraction of birth
consumed by this new self.
The small curved space of an arm, a kiss, a fragment of lullaby,
feeds and fades,
a cotyledon of spirit.
It seems impossible, this dangling foot
below my knees.
The increasing weight is so incremental it can almost be denied,
but that body, long and gangling,
draped over me like a lightly snoring rug
will not be refuted.
This is childhood.
This is running and jumping and stories
and lies and fighting and telling tales.
No tell-tale soft smell of milk,
but dirt and rubber and twine create
this weighty thing I hold,
this baby gone.
My imprint, still so small, it cannot grow,
the fraction of birth
consumed by this new self.
The small curved space of an arm, a kiss, a fragment of lullaby,
feeds and fades,
a cotyledon of spirit.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The Project - Day 24 & 25
I made the observation recently that I look forward to a time when I can go watch a football team compete in handmade uniforms while playing on a tennis court and a cast of 100 hard working young kids singing their hearts out get an actual theater, instead of dancing on the floor of a gymnasium in front of the bleachers.
While I know there are those who would explain to me all about the politics of sport and how it’s not either/or and that football pays for itself, etc., etc. ad nauseum, I still must preach the gospel of validity for the performing arts. The truth is, no one would ever expect a soccer team to compete without a field, a tennis team to practice without a net or a track team to run on the sidewalk around the school in lieu of a track. Still, many schools don’t think twice about students performing a play in a gymnasium or other so-called all-purpose room whose purposes clearly do not include communicating the spoken word.
It is true that theater, like church, may be presented anywhere and indeed there are often fortuitous events where an alternative environment can render a production more meaningful than in a traditional setting. Still, these rare events are no excuse for the wholesale marginalizing of educational theater to the back lot of the curriculum, not to mention the campus. Speaking pedagogically, what is the point of teaching students how to learn their lines and speak them properly, with adequate projection and meaningful expression and then set them to perform in a space where there is no chance that those lines will be heard? Why train students in technical theater, learning about painting, sound and lights and then put them in an environment where it is impossible for them to fully realize excellence?
Beyond the basics, there is the issue of what a theater and performing spaces mean to a school community. The theater is the imaginative heart of a school. It is the gathering place, a symbol for dreams and inspiration, it is the locus of expression. This might sound far fetched, but believe me, the proof is in the face of a child who walks on a stage or sits in an audience for the first time. The value of a theater is in the spirit of an ensemble that experiences the hush when the lights dim in anticipation of their first note. Even the simple act of holding a class on the stage transforms the subject. A dedicated performing space is the only environment where this alchemy occurs.
This is not to belittle the amazing work that is done in gymnasiums, classrooms, courtyards and similar spaces all across the country. Good teachers can transform spaces to bring their students close to the theatrical environment and thank goodness for that. Still, the abilities and dedication of the teachers is not an excuse for failing to provide them with the tools necessary to bring their instruction to fruition. There is already too much burden placed on these teachers to justify programs that should require no justification. The preponderance of evidence regarding the connection between studies in the performing arts and academic achievement makes it clear that these should be academic and not optional subjects. Regardless, music and theater continue to be treated as extracurricular and dependent entirely on demand. Like an entree in the cafeteria, music and theater will be made available if there appears to be sufficient demand.
The reason this does not work when it comes to performing arts education is that supply dictates demand, not the other way around. If classes in music, art and drama are made available and promoted, through an organized and structured progression leading from kindergarten through high school, you will build a vital and popular program. If, on the other hand there is no progressive structure, no commitment to curriculum and above all, no physical space dedicated to the arts, it is impossible for a school to build a consistently excellent program, regardless of the quality of teaching or the interest level of the students.
I hope that someday all schools will understand the centrality of the performing arts to their curriculum, until then I salute the teachers who create magic on a dime, making do with gymnasium floors.
While I know there are those who would explain to me all about the politics of sport and how it’s not either/or and that football pays for itself, etc., etc. ad nauseum, I still must preach the gospel of validity for the performing arts. The truth is, no one would ever expect a soccer team to compete without a field, a tennis team to practice without a net or a track team to run on the sidewalk around the school in lieu of a track. Still, many schools don’t think twice about students performing a play in a gymnasium or other so-called all-purpose room whose purposes clearly do not include communicating the spoken word.
It is true that theater, like church, may be presented anywhere and indeed there are often fortuitous events where an alternative environment can render a production more meaningful than in a traditional setting. Still, these rare events are no excuse for the wholesale marginalizing of educational theater to the back lot of the curriculum, not to mention the campus. Speaking pedagogically, what is the point of teaching students how to learn their lines and speak them properly, with adequate projection and meaningful expression and then set them to perform in a space where there is no chance that those lines will be heard? Why train students in technical theater, learning about painting, sound and lights and then put them in an environment where it is impossible for them to fully realize excellence?
Beyond the basics, there is the issue of what a theater and performing spaces mean to a school community. The theater is the imaginative heart of a school. It is the gathering place, a symbol for dreams and inspiration, it is the locus of expression. This might sound far fetched, but believe me, the proof is in the face of a child who walks on a stage or sits in an audience for the first time. The value of a theater is in the spirit of an ensemble that experiences the hush when the lights dim in anticipation of their first note. Even the simple act of holding a class on the stage transforms the subject. A dedicated performing space is the only environment where this alchemy occurs.
This is not to belittle the amazing work that is done in gymnasiums, classrooms, courtyards and similar spaces all across the country. Good teachers can transform spaces to bring their students close to the theatrical environment and thank goodness for that. Still, the abilities and dedication of the teachers is not an excuse for failing to provide them with the tools necessary to bring their instruction to fruition. There is already too much burden placed on these teachers to justify programs that should require no justification. The preponderance of evidence regarding the connection between studies in the performing arts and academic achievement makes it clear that these should be academic and not optional subjects. Regardless, music and theater continue to be treated as extracurricular and dependent entirely on demand. Like an entree in the cafeteria, music and theater will be made available if there appears to be sufficient demand.
The reason this does not work when it comes to performing arts education is that supply dictates demand, not the other way around. If classes in music, art and drama are made available and promoted, through an organized and structured progression leading from kindergarten through high school, you will build a vital and popular program. If, on the other hand there is no progressive structure, no commitment to curriculum and above all, no physical space dedicated to the arts, it is impossible for a school to build a consistently excellent program, regardless of the quality of teaching or the interest level of the students.
I hope that someday all schools will understand the centrality of the performing arts to their curriculum, until then I salute the teachers who create magic on a dime, making do with gymnasium floors.
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