Oh, don't join the choir!

Please be forewarned that this shall be my most irritable post in the history of blog-dom. But I'm at that time of life when one weeps for the potential one once had - and also at an age where I no longer hide being opinionated.

There are notable exceptions (for example, I doubt the music of any church on earth could top that of Westminster Cathedral), but, as a general rule, churches which are either Roman Catholic, advertise 'family services,' or are looking to be a spot where everyone can 'relate' have music that is utter crap. Just focussing on the RC Church, where I served for years, with memories of the 1970s and hopes that we'd have top quality music to rival even the Anglicans, the music tends to be pathetic. It shall continue to be pathetic until serious musicians are employed. (Yes, I said employed, and I said serious musicians. I am aware that the Church would prefer that everyone be an angel, therefore with no need for food, clothing, shelter and therefore a means of sustenance. I am equally aware that people whose skills in music are laughable can become the darlings of congregations, and can come to think of themselves as if they were Renata Tebaldi... though I doubt they know who Tebaldi was.) The unwritten rule that 'everyone must sing everything,' that facilitating this means including nothing beyond the range of someone who'd have trouble singing London Bridge is Falling Down, and that choirs, soloists, and instrumentalists exist only to provide support for congregational singing must be abolished.

Serious singers indeed will be encouraged to join the choir - though not to really sing once they get there. There are exceptions, of course - a first rate professional choir, or training in a choir school, can be beneficial. But I am speaking of the average church choir (and many choirs not associated with churches), where operatic singers can be reduced to crooning because the director wants the sound of 'one voice.' (From a distance, that's the effect anyway, but it's not worth mentioning this.)

Though I have not seen this often, it is so dangerous to one's voice that it is worthy of note. Here and there, I have met choir directors who have a particular 'choral sound' they want, and who encourage a technique which would totally ruin the voices of those who adapted this. I well remember one fool who wanted (as he said) a "heavy, covered sound." He told people to "hold their mouths rigid," to adapt bizarre pronunciations, and other instructions it would pain me to even remember. His choir sounded like an old, somewhat damaged record playing on a slow turntable.

I am a spinto / dramatic soprano, the sort who plays Leonora in La Forza del Destino or the title role in Aida. My timbre is dark, but my range sits high. I was doomed, as far as choirs are concerned, the day that Sister Liberanos, who placed people in choral sections based on their saying "Hello," thought I was an alto. Were that the end of it, it might not have been so bad - but church and school choirs, and even the choir of the university where I earned my degree in music, want "strong altos." (Useless to say I'm not an alto - and there was no understanding of how I had to practise doubly for the rest of the week following a rehearsal, to get my voice out of the cellar. I sounded as if I had two voices.) Of course, in choirs such as I have mentioned, most people in the alto section are not true contraltos - they are those with a limited range. A spinto will be stuck in that section... with damaging effects.

Useless to offer to vocalise! The director, having determined the supposed 'contralto quality,' will hit a middle C, ask one to vocalise an octave up, and allow one to go no further, writing down that this is the top of one's range. Never mind that I had a range of over three octaves and could sustain notes above a high C.

It works both ways, of course. A true mezzo-soprano may find herself the lead soprano, because the people in that section are not much good, either, and she's the only one who can hit a G.

I've known some fine musicians who nonetheless knew nothing of vocal technique. One, with whom I worked for some years, was an excellent conductor and organist, but it took me years of study to 'unlearn' the nonsense he taught me. How well I remember not only being stuck in an alto section but being instructed, "Put it in your chest!" When my voice finally started to have proper bel canto technique, he complained to others that I was losing those 'chest tones,' not even knowing that is a major fault in a voice.

Any reader who is a serious singer has this advice from me. Keep up your lessons and practise religiously - but try to do only solo or serious ensemble work. I'm sad, to this day, that the crooning I learnt in church choirs, and which was made all the worse because, in my convent of only 17 Sisters, I had to whisper not to be accused of 'singularisation,' ruined my voice. Not that I cannot still sing - the ghost of the opera singer self still is there. But my voice was severely damaged, and all the while I was hoping I was using the gift for the good of the Church.