It's going to be an interesting weekend. The bishop is coming for a visit at Faith UMC this Sunday. We are having a single service and inviting the entire church to it. Normally we have four weekend services, of which I play for them all, so, in a way, it is like getting three quarters of a week off. Sort of. Of course that one service will be more elaborate and stressful and call on more of my resources than a regular service would have, but it will certainly not be a snooze. Fortunately, that gives it a bit of luster for me.
The rest of the weekend will be spent in rehearsal with The Chorale, a community choral organization with about 70 members who sing at least three concerts annually, the first of which is always the first weekend in November. This time we are welcoming back Dr. Craig Jessop, former conductor of The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, for a fifth time! In an unusual twist, there will be no 20-piece orchestra this time around. Instead, Dr. Jessop will lead the group in mostly a cappella numbers. As the group's accompanist, I'll play the piano a couple of times and the organ once, and largely sit back and enjoy the concert. After about 8 or 9 hours of rehearsal Fri, Sat and Sunday, I won't mind the break. Normally I spend Sunday afternoon becoming the orchestral pianist and sight reading a new part in which most of my favorite notes have been farmed out to the other instruments.
But it doesn't quite end there. Tenor Davion Williams, a former scholarship winner, will sing a few solo numbers, to which I'll supply the accompaniment. And I'll also be playing a handful of short solo piano and organ pieces. I thought I'd let you listen in to some recordings I made on Tuesday as part of the learning process (this gives me a chance to see how well I can play the pieces while nervous).
Since the concert consists entirely of hymns and spirituals, I'm playing pieces based on hymns (Davion is singing spirituals; didn't that work out nicely?). Here they are, as well as some short remarks I'm planning to make as an introduction to each one:
[I probably won't say anything about this one, although it takes its name from a very interesting image in the book of Deuteronomy. I can just see a kid drawing of God with really really long arms.]
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms
This hymn tune bears the attractive name "Pisgah." The jury is out on where the name came from--possibly it's named after a mountain peak. I first heard this tune when The Chorale sang it a couple of years ago in an Alice Parker arrangement to the words of the 23rd Psalm. So if any of it sounds like verdant pastures and flowing water, that may be why.
Pisgah
Before every concert I've attended or played in for the last 10 or 15 years you hear the same announcement: please, turn off your cell phones! This might be what would happen if you didn't turn off your cell phone before a church service:
Jesus Calls Us
The year of Jubilee is come! That's the refrain to the following hymn. In order to announce this Year of Jubilee, it was time to sound the ceremonial trumpet.
Blow ye the trumpet, blow
When this tune was originally published, it was in a minor key. "On Jordan's Stormy Banks I Stand, and cast a watchful eye to Canaan's fair and happy land where my possessions lie." Only, a century later, as religious fashions came and went, people thought it sounded to solemn. So the tune was recast in a blithe, major key. Now just maybe it sounds as if we aren't standing on the stormy bank on the opposite side of the river at all, but we are already in the promised land. In any event, in this piece you'll hear both versions of the tune, alternately. I wonder which one will be left standing at the end....
Are We There yet?
If you happen to be in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, this weekend, perhaps I'll see you at 7 pm on Sunday at the First United Methodist Church in Urbana.
Showing posts with label hymns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hymns. Show all posts
Friday, November 1, 2013
Friday, January 25, 2013
A New Song
Last week during the early service at church I was looking out on the congregation during the hymn (I don't have to keep my eyes glued on the music all the time so I look around occasionally). Since the singing is sometimes difficult to detect at this service owing to a small congregation I was looking around to see if people were singing. I was especially worried that a fairly new hymn--and in a contemporary idiom--might not be well received, or, for that matter, sung.
My quick survey was inconclusive. From my corner of the altar area the scattered people in the pews were a bit hard to make out--were their lips moving or not? And what were they thinking?
I remember a time, years ago, when a new hymn was being sung, and I looked up to see a woman near the front, frowning loudly, lips closed, apparently taking it rather personally that this hymn had been chosen, and making it clear to everybody that this was not her favorite hymn. This happens sometimes. People think that the people who choose music for their church are deliberately trying to make their lives difficult. To which I'd like to bring two observations: we try not to, and, we ought to, some of the time.
There are a lot of things that could be said about new or unusual hymns. One is that they are necessary. If a congregation sings its favorite few all of the time they will only reinforce the self-centered idea that church is there primarily to make them feel good about going. It's all about what you got out of the sermon; whether you liked the organ music; whether that hymn was too fast. This strikes me as theologically dangerous. Not to mention it is not good for our society in general. If we are trying to inculcate the idea that people need to love each other, to be there for each other, and not to insist on their own ways, we are going to have to provide some opportunities for that to happen. I can't tell you how many hours I have spent playing hymns that are not in my top 500.
But it should be observed that people in leadership roles and people who are not usually see things very differently. A person whose vocational life revolves around something (like music) is much more likely to want to try something new, and to get bored with the same material, than a person who spends 15 minutes a week singing and doesn't think about it all the rest of the time. The same five hymns don't grate on a person who can't remember that they sang them last week; not only that, but such a person is probably not at all concerned about the music anyway and is more interested in the comfort and joy familiarity brings. Learning a new hymn usually does the opposite. It is an uncomfortable experience--no matter how much you might end up loving that hymn later on, the birth pangs are never easy.
I know something about this because I spend a lot of time working on new music, and it never feels that fun. Once I can play the piece I'm glad I went through the turmoil of learning it, but at first, no matter how much enthusiasm I had when I reached the organ in the morning, after an hour or two my mind is swimming in notes and I feel like I've mentally bench pressed all I can handle for a while. I'm tired. Learning will do that to you.
So I'm never unsympathetic to people who feel uncomfortable with new things, even though I think it is part of our responsibility as leaders to broaden the horizons of the laity. Within reason, our tolerance for adventure, and making the sacrifice to expand our understanding is good for the folks in the pews. But suppose it is the middle of the service and it is time to sing something I've never heard before. What do I do? I could spend the time being frustrated and silent, and then give the music director an earful when the service is over. But supposing I want to do something more constructive, what do I do? Here are a few coping mechanisms:
---Listen. If its a hymn, you'll hear the same melody on every verse. Probably the same musical phrase repeated on several of them. Maybe lines 1, 2 and 4 are the same. If its a praise song, maybe the chorus is easier to pick up on than the verse. Generally, if its a new hymn, I play it all the way through for the congregation before we start, rather than a simple one or two line introduction. Once at a service I told people I was going to keep playing it until felt like they knew it--look up and smile when you think you've got it, I said. When I see enough people looking up and smiling, we'll start! In any case, if the hymn has four verses, make a deal with yourself to join in on verse 3 and spend the first two just listening to the tune so you can pick it up. No rush.
---Meditate on the words. There's no reason you can't pray during a hymn! If you feel like you can't pick it up, read the words to yourself and think about them. This is something we ought to be doing more of anyway, whether or not we can sing the hymn! And if you don't mind being a bit of a gadfly, you can say them out loud. The worst thing that can happen is the people in the pew with you will think you can't carry a tune.
---Pick a note that sounds like it belongs and chant the words on that note. You may get a few looks, but, hey, people need their worlds enlarged a little, right?
---Have a sense of humor about it. Nobody is really noticing that you aren't singing the hymn (except maybe the organist :) If all else fails, grab a tambourine or some woodblocks and join in!
---Become an organist. (this one is easy!) That way you don't have to sing unless you want to. Also, you get to dance.
My quick survey was inconclusive. From my corner of the altar area the scattered people in the pews were a bit hard to make out--were their lips moving or not? And what were they thinking?
I remember a time, years ago, when a new hymn was being sung, and I looked up to see a woman near the front, frowning loudly, lips closed, apparently taking it rather personally that this hymn had been chosen, and making it clear to everybody that this was not her favorite hymn. This happens sometimes. People think that the people who choose music for their church are deliberately trying to make their lives difficult. To which I'd like to bring two observations: we try not to, and, we ought to, some of the time.
There are a lot of things that could be said about new or unusual hymns. One is that they are necessary. If a congregation sings its favorite few all of the time they will only reinforce the self-centered idea that church is there primarily to make them feel good about going. It's all about what you got out of the sermon; whether you liked the organ music; whether that hymn was too fast. This strikes me as theologically dangerous. Not to mention it is not good for our society in general. If we are trying to inculcate the idea that people need to love each other, to be there for each other, and not to insist on their own ways, we are going to have to provide some opportunities for that to happen. I can't tell you how many hours I have spent playing hymns that are not in my top 500.
But it should be observed that people in leadership roles and people who are not usually see things very differently. A person whose vocational life revolves around something (like music) is much more likely to want to try something new, and to get bored with the same material, than a person who spends 15 minutes a week singing and doesn't think about it all the rest of the time. The same five hymns don't grate on a person who can't remember that they sang them last week; not only that, but such a person is probably not at all concerned about the music anyway and is more interested in the comfort and joy familiarity brings. Learning a new hymn usually does the opposite. It is an uncomfortable experience--no matter how much you might end up loving that hymn later on, the birth pangs are never easy.
I know something about this because I spend a lot of time working on new music, and it never feels that fun. Once I can play the piece I'm glad I went through the turmoil of learning it, but at first, no matter how much enthusiasm I had when I reached the organ in the morning, after an hour or two my mind is swimming in notes and I feel like I've mentally bench pressed all I can handle for a while. I'm tired. Learning will do that to you.
So I'm never unsympathetic to people who feel uncomfortable with new things, even though I think it is part of our responsibility as leaders to broaden the horizons of the laity. Within reason, our tolerance for adventure, and making the sacrifice to expand our understanding is good for the folks in the pews. But suppose it is the middle of the service and it is time to sing something I've never heard before. What do I do? I could spend the time being frustrated and silent, and then give the music director an earful when the service is over. But supposing I want to do something more constructive, what do I do? Here are a few coping mechanisms:
---Listen. If its a hymn, you'll hear the same melody on every verse. Probably the same musical phrase repeated on several of them. Maybe lines 1, 2 and 4 are the same. If its a praise song, maybe the chorus is easier to pick up on than the verse. Generally, if its a new hymn, I play it all the way through for the congregation before we start, rather than a simple one or two line introduction. Once at a service I told people I was going to keep playing it until felt like they knew it--look up and smile when you think you've got it, I said. When I see enough people looking up and smiling, we'll start! In any case, if the hymn has four verses, make a deal with yourself to join in on verse 3 and spend the first two just listening to the tune so you can pick it up. No rush.
---Meditate on the words. There's no reason you can't pray during a hymn! If you feel like you can't pick it up, read the words to yourself and think about them. This is something we ought to be doing more of anyway, whether or not we can sing the hymn! And if you don't mind being a bit of a gadfly, you can say them out loud. The worst thing that can happen is the people in the pew with you will think you can't carry a tune.
---Pick a note that sounds like it belongs and chant the words on that note. You may get a few looks, but, hey, people need their worlds enlarged a little, right?
---Have a sense of humor about it. Nobody is really noticing that you aren't singing the hymn (except maybe the organist :) If all else fails, grab a tambourine or some woodblocks and join in!
---Become an organist. (this one is easy!) That way you don't have to sing unless you want to. Also, you get to dance.
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