Stacy Horn is a writer by trade, but has found a secondary home in the Choral Society of Grace Church for the past 30 years. She doesn't dream of stealing the scene with a solo nor does she desire to one day conduct the choir. She simply enjoys coming together with fellow music lovers and singing.
Having sung in choirs from my early childhood through young adulthood, I loved her observations about the music, the feelings, and yes, how first sopranos feel about the rest of the choir. I didn't always enjoy my time in the choir; I hated waiting around while the rest of the choir learned their parts. I had the melody most of the time, so I had the easiest part to learn. Plus, I was a vocal performance major in college - I wanted to sing my operatic arias by myself! But we had to be in a performance ensemble and at that time, choir was it. Ohhh, the drama of youth!
I remember the hard work that went into preparing for each performance. We practiced 4 days a week. We toured during Spring Break. We sang in just about every language - from Latin to Japanese to Swedish to Swahili. It was a big commitment. I do enjoy listening to choirs now, though, and even go back to my college for some of their concerts (Capital University Chapel Choir - who took two gold medals home in the 2012 World Choir Games.) I'm happy to be in the audience, enjoying the fruits of their labor.
Some of the pieces Horn writes about I've sung; others were new to me and I enjoyed learning about them. I also enjoyed her research into the effects of singing on our moods, our brains, even our character. I found it interesting that many in her choir enjoyed singing with accompaniment over a capella singing, which is what I always preferred.
Some favorite moments:
•As long as I'm singing, though, it's as if I'm inhabiting another reality. I become temporarily suspended in a world where everything bad is bearable, and everything good feels possible.
•Because for the past few decades, as boyfriends come and go, jobs come and go, cats life and die, a stay in rehab when I was thirty, depression, broken engagements, and the deaths of those I love, there has always been this: The Choral Society of Grace Church.
•Life is hard, battles of all kinds continue to rage around us, and disappointments accumulate. But singing is the one thing in my life that never fails to take me to where disenchantment is almost nonexistent and feeling good is pretty much guaranteed.
•She worried that she'd be "the only Jew singing about Jesus," but quickly discovered that beliefs and faith within the choir were all over the religious/nonreligious map.
•"The wonderful thing about the amateur chorus," the conductor Robert Shaw once said, "is that nobody can buy its attendance at rehearsals, or the sweat, eyestrain and fatigue that go along with the glow; and nobody but the most purposive and creative of music minds - from Bach in both directions - can invite and sustain its devotion."
•If it were up to the choir, solos would be greatly shortened or eliminated entirely. There are exceptions, and if the soloists are brilliant, it's not quite so tedious a wait, but for the most part solos are a barely tolerated side-trip while we wait for the good parts, Us.
•In other words: life is hard, singing is heartening. And singing with other people, in particular.
•How are we supposed to count this? It's in seven. Is that even rhythmically allowed?
•I've been a soprano 1 for my entire choral life. That's the part that sings the highest notes, the best notes, and the best part of the best notes: the melody. I loved being a soprano 1. It also made me feel proud. I was on top. Number one. But when I finally found my name, it was under the column for soprano 2s, the part that sings beneath the soprano 1s. I'd been demoted.
•The best notes secured for themselves, they were completely oblivious to my misery. They barely paid attention to what the rest of the choir had to do. I knew, because I used to be one of them. As far as they were concerned the rest of us sang some insignificant notes that they passed by on their way to the beautiful, soaring top. Why did all the other people in the choir even bother coming?
•Singing had punctuated all the best moments of my life. And created them.
•"Four voice parts," John once said, "four personality disorders."
•While it sometimes feels as if religion only separates people, the music brings us together.
•Ralph Vaughan Williams once said, to a group of school children, "Music will enable you to see past facts to the very essence of things in a way which science cannot do. The arts are the means by which we can look through the magic casements and see what lies beyond."
•Almost every study of singing I've read comes to the same conclusions: singing feels great and it's good for you. It decreases feelings of anxiety, loneliness, and depression. Singing also makes you smarter. Children who sing in choirs get better grades, according to a 2009 study by Chorus America. Choristers are also nicer. They were found to volunteer more than the general public and to give more money to charity.
•Regarding harmony, one study indicated that harmonization activated the section of the brain referred to as Brodmann's area 38, which is one of the parts of the brain that is affected earliest by Alzheimer's disease.
• "You won't have any instruments to bail you out," John repeatedly warned us. All we had was each other. But that was what would save us, he tried to tell us. "No matter how much you practice," he told us, "no singer in the room can sing choral music on their own. You need each other."
Highly recommend.