A few months ago, I had the opportunity to perform at Carnegie Hall, arguably the most famous concert hall on the face of the earth. Yet, what could have been an unforgettably positive experience was marred by a few crucial mistakes in the preparation of three world premieres. These compositions were extraordinary works that deserved the utmost attention and a performance representative of their wonder. However, what lessons can be learned from this less-than-perfect performance on America’s greatest stage?
Firstly, diction is important no matter what language or genre of music is being performed. However, it is especially crucial when music is performed in a language that is underrepresented and unfamiliar to audiences accustomed to Western music. My choir performed a three-movement piece in Hindi and Urdu that was composed specifically for middle and high school ensembles such as ourselves. However, while we may have known the pitches and rests of the music, we failed to pronounce many of the words right, even the name of the piece itself.
This was embarrassing, to say the least when the composer informed us of this just a few days before our Carnegie Hall debut, where it was deemed too late to make any significant changes to our lackluster pronunciation of the music. When the composer provides pronunciation and audio guides, use them! They are an incredible resource. They allow ensembles to do the music justice to the community they came from. They are never to be overlooked.
On the stage of Carnegie Hall, I couldn’t help but think that if there is anyone in the audience who speaks either of these languages, they would know just how little of an attempt had been made to accurately represent the pronunciation of those languages, which get so little representation in choral music as it is.
Secondly, the music being performed should always be appropriate for the ensemble
singing it. For context, the ensemble I belonged to was very much a developing ensemble, with much progress made but a long way to go. It’s always important to give musicians music that will challenge them and push them, but only to a point. Music that is too difficult will only frustrate them and evoke disappointment as they remain unsatisfied with the work they’ve produced. Going into the performance, I knew that I was not equipped to sing the part that I was assigned the way it was written.
The director had already accepted that fate. Reluctantly, I tried my best, but we failed to produce the intentional dissonance that gave that piece its character. If the music selected is apparent to be too difficult for the ensemble, then tough decisions must be made as to whether the music should be performed at that date. While a challenge is never a bad thing, a near-impossible task is not enriching for musicians but dispiriting. Rather than feeling elated at the accomplishment of performing at such a place as Carnegie Hall, feelings of humiliation triumphed instead. Select pieces that will highlight the ensemble’s strength while pushing for growth, not those that will produce more defeat than delight.
Thirdly, with student musicians such as myself, encountering complex works will mean that they encounter many elements that they might be unfamiliar with. Complex polyrhythms, aleatoric sequences, and sforzandos may be new to them, but this is precisely the opportunity to teach them. Skipping the chance to educate about these important elements leaves students with a lesser understanding of the music than they would have had if one had taken the time to teach them. At the clinic we attended the day before our performance, our clinician was looking over the music and asked why we had forgotten the sotto voce on measure 35. To this, one of the students raised their hand and asked proudly “What’s a sotto voce?”. A crushing feeling came over me that most of the ensemble didn’t know what it meant either. I blamed myself for not having the wisdom to see the importance of the more nuanced markings and alerting the director, which to most were but incomprehensible words of Italian. These features are important to achieve the full effect of the music, and students want to learn them just as much as the music needs them. While it may seem tedious to go through all elements that the students may not be familiar with, it is undoubtedly worth it.
Finally, but most importantly, the most crucial thing any director can do when preparing an ensemble for taking the stage of Carnegie Hall is to rehearse with intention. Running music over and over again without making corrections or suggestions when there is still valuable work to be done just reinforces bad habits rather than making meaningful progress toward real growth. Believe it or not, the students may at times know that something isn’t sounding right; I certainly did and I believe the others around me did too. I just don’t know how to fix it. I went into rehearsal every day already defeated, knowing that simply running the music wasn’t enough, real improvements had to be made to perform at our best. Spending time making corrections is a lesson, much more so than an hour-long lesson about the history of African and Latin American percussion, which is undoubtedly important but perhaps should have been scheduled for a different date. Time is perhaps the most valuable commodity there is; using it productively sets singers up for success.
I’m very grateful for this incredible opportunity to perform at America’s greatest concert hall, where the likes of Leonard Bernstein and George Gershwin earned their perpetual glory. While my experience at Carnegie Hall was inspiring, I was left feeling as though there was more that could have been done to make it truly extraordinary. If the advice above was heeded, I know it could have been. The goal of ensembles, whether they may be middle schoolers or professional musicians, is to make beautiful music. One ought to never lose sight of that.
*Opinions expressed on The CCCC Blog are reflections of the individual author, and may not represent all members of The CCCC Community.
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