To tell the truth...

Greetings, dear readers!

It's a snowy winter's evening here....just right for the week before Christmas, the darkness of the winter solstice almost at its full strength.  I think I just might have finished all my Christmas shopping this afternoon, and while there's still Christmas Eve and Day left in the realm of holiday singing obligations, things have finally slowed down.  The cycle of the year brings around lots of memories as it moves, and in my line of work, those memories sometimes appear unexpectedly in the form of people who I associate with a past time or former place showing up to concerts in my here and now.  And, since the nature of the season inevitably leads to some exhaustion, verbal filters sometimes don't work so well.

This is all sort of an oblique way of saying that I said a little more of what I meant than I really should have at least one time yesterday, and I feel a little bad about it.  I'm inclined sometimes to blame my penchant for excessive honesty in these moments on my parents' choice of a name for me, which is derived from Gabriel, angel of the annunciation.  Naming a kid after a celestial being who had to start most of his sentences with, "Fear not!" seems like kind of a set-up to me.  I've met a few other folks in my time whose names have the same derivation, and we do seem to have this in common...the urge to proclaim sometimes just overrides common sense.

I'm mostly not serious about this, but I'm a little serious about it.  People sometimes engage in behavior that is not the best choice for a given situation.  People have default settings that steer them consistently in a particular direction, and while it is possible to override those settings under optimal conditions, tiredness has a way of bringing out whatever is most natural or most habitual.  For me, that often includes telling the truth...the whole truth, and way more truth than anyone really wants, in far more detail than is necessary or helpful.  There have been situations in my life where this tendency has served me excellently -- and probably many more situations where this tendency has gotten me into trouble or made other people feel awkward or created other kinds of problems.  We all have stuff like this, I believe.  In A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle deals with these kinds of hard-wired personality traits through the character of her protagonist, Meg Murry, who is in the throes of pubescent angst, and is very unhappy, even downright ill-tempered, for much of the book.  However, at the moment of crisis, it is Meg's temper and stubbornness that actually winds up saving the world.  L'Engle still refers to these traits in Meg's personality as "faults," but it makes me wonder: can the traits that save us truly be considered faults?

To look at the same idea from a different angle, consider a group exercise/pep talk my dear guest blogger, Ted, likes to have with his choirs sometimes:

"Ok, will everyone in this room who is perfect please raise your hand?"
[no one moves, nervous giggles ensue]
"Well, I have news for you.  You're all wrong.  Each of you is exactly who you need to be.  Do you always do perfect?  No.  But, you all are perfect, right now, today, at this very moment."

So, no matter what we do -- all of us, any of us, even the jerk who stole your parking spot, or the moron who screwed up your account at the bank, or the nasty lady who yelled at you for cutting in line at the coffee shop even though you apologized and said you didn't see her -- we are operating from a good place.  We're doing the best we can under the circumstances.  It is not easy to believe, and it isn't a release from responsibility or a license to do whatever we want, but...

We're perfect.

And there's nothing that can be done to change that.  You can't screw up.

Pretty liberating...and when you get to thinking about it, extremely scary.  Sometimes we all feel like freaks/jerks/morons/nasty people...but this is what we've got to work with.  And, speaking of work:

Rising Level 2's


Take a look at this piece:

http://www3.cpdl.org/wiki/images/sheet/han-mf10.pdf

Many of you will recognize it -- you're probably used to hearing a soloist sing essentially the same material before the chorus comes in....

For our purposes, use this scheme for the key changes:

in m. 5-6, all parts will move into A Major

at the pickup to m. 19, all parts will return to D Major

in m. 26 and 29, the G-sharp and C-natural are just chromatic inflections

So, you may do as you wish with this piece, but in the spirit of today's blog theme, consider this:  what comes the most naturally to you in solfa class?  Singing?  Analysis?  Memory?  Sight-singing?  Dictation?  Whatever your strengths are, design some activities for yourself with this piece that give you a chance to delight in what you already know you do well.

Then, ask yourself about your weaknesses in the solfa classroom.  Whatever these might be, design some other activities that will help you build your skills in these areas.

Rising Level 3's


For you, a setting by William Byrd of the same text, but in Latin:

http://www1.cpdl.org/wiki/images/9/9a/BYRD-SUR.pdf

You're on your own for key area choices (though I will tell you that the opening signature is a little deceptive....perhaps even a little Dorian....), but follow the same procedure as the rising level 2's -- seek out your own strengths and weaknesses, and use this piece as a tool to work with both.

Rising Level 4's


And for you, a polychoral setting by Palestrina of the same text, also in Latin:

http://www1.cpdl.org/wiki/images/sheet/pal-surg.pdf

You, too, are on your own tonally, and should follow the same procedure as the others -- use what you know best and do best to access what is harder for you.  After all, this is what it's all about.

Notice that the text of all three pieces has everything to do with the theme, too:

Arise, shine, for your light has come!