Category Archives: Love of singing

Haydn’s Creation: Old Friend, New Language

When the opportunity came to perform Haydn’s The Creation with the Tanglewood Festival Chorus, I signed up quickly for the roster. I love this piece, and I know it well.

I’ve sung it at least twice before, maybe more, always in English. I had worn out a cassette tape of my first performance of it with the MIT Concert Choir in the 90s, and if it were possible to wear out a CD, I might have done that too. I reckoned that my familiarity with it would lighten the prep load, as I wouldn’t be learning it from scratch… and really, compared to other big works we’ve performed, the chorus doesn’t actually sing that much. Between the opening “chaos” movement, the recitatives, and all those arias, the soloists carry most of the story.

My favorite go-round with it was January 1, 2000, a performance at Jordan Hall with the Boston Cecilia, led by Donald Teeters, and headlined with a speech by the prolific author, paleontologist, and agnostic anti-creationist (yet avid singer and Boston Cecilia member) Stephen Jay Gould. The concert inspired one of his essays about seeking the meaning of life through the creation story. All in all, it was a pretty darn good way to welcome the new millennium.

After I was added to the roster, I noticed a throwaway line in the welcome email that I hadn’t seen before. Wait, what’s that? We’re singing it in German? Oh, Scheiße.

Music That Needs No Subtitles

Learn a piece in English and then perform it in German, and your brain refuses to let go of the English. I found myself mentally translating every phrase on the fly from English to German in my head. Some of it is fairly straightforward: Werk is “work.” Firmament is the same in both languages, and the frequent recurrences of und Gott sprach are easy to map to and God said. Sometimes it’s a little funny, like how “the Lord is great” in German is Der Herr ist groß – which, when said to an English speaker, sounds like you’re telling someone they need better shampoo.

Still, the German is probably the better choice for this piece, and there’s some history behind that. The original libretto was in English, an anonymous text assembled from Genesis, the Psalms, and Milton’s Paradise Lost. Haydn carried it back from London, and Baron Gottfried van Swieten translated it into German for him to set. Then it had to return to English for English-speaking audiences, and that’s where things went sideways. It’s a bad game of Google Translate telephone: the English version is a translation of a translation, most likely by van Swieten himself… and let’s just say the results are awkward at best. (Here’s more on the topic.) The bottom line is that the German is what Haydn actually set, and the words fit the music more naturally. And in our case, the BSO audience will have supertitles with English translations, so no one gets lost.

What I love most about this piece is that it hardly needs any words. Haydn’s use of “word painting” in his composition is so vivid that the music does most of the telling. Take the sunrise: no singing at all, just the orchestra lifting the day into view. Or the moment the chorus comes in on und es ward Licht, the “and there was LIGHT” of day one in Genesis. The music fills the hall with the radiance of that first light, in all its glory and majesty. You don’t have to speak a word of German to know exactly what just happened.

And that’s only the start. Most of the word painting lives in the solos, and oh, it is just so much fun. There’s an entire parade of animals: the lion roaring, the horses galloping, the cattle and sheep in a bucolic pasture, and finally the worm, crawling along at the very end. I love the almost rude THUD of the elephants trodding along, and the double basses depicting the Leviathan and whales swimming in the depths. The soprano soloist sings of a cooing dove, while other birds call back and forth, fluttering around the orchestra. There are raging hailstorms and gentle snowflakes, there are trees swaying their boughs to and fro, and that’s before we even get to Adam and Eve. It’s the kind of writing that makes you grin on stage, because Haydn was clearly having the time of his life composing it in his attempts to make an oratorio that would rival Handel’s Messiah.

The animal movement is my favorite in the whole piece, and for our performance, the bass-baritone soloist, David Steffens, finishes the worm’s crawl with a wonderful low D that made me tear up a little. He’s one of three soloists, along with soprano Louise Alder and tenor Bogdan Volkov. All three are excellent and well-pedigreed individually, but together blend even more beautifully as a trio. They’re also showing restraint. The Creation offers plenty of chances to add ornaments and cadenzas, and these three keep theirs fairly modest. I think I prefer that less ostentatious, more focused storytelling, compared to other soloists I’ve heard tackle those lines more indulgently to show off their virtuosity, pulling attention away from the narrative. And narrative is everything with this piece.

The chorus gets its share, too. When we’re watching Adam and Eve talk, we’re almost gossiping on the side, commenting on how they’ll be here forever in paradise. When we’re not angels praising the Lord’s achievements, we are off in intense sotto voce passages singing about just how awestruck we are by God’s wonderful work.

Baking the Baumkuchen

A Baumkuchen is a German “tree cake,” baked in many thin layers, one at a time, until the cross-section looks like the rings of a tree. That’s what chorus preparation felt like this time around.

Our newly appointed chorus director, Jean-Sébastien Vallée, has been methodical and efficient in helping us bake this cake. I’ve really appreciated his approach, which blends technical preparation with an emphasis on what we should be trying to communicate from the stage. He’s explicit about lengths of vowels and consonants: for instance, in several places, he asked us to split a quarter note into two eighth notes, with the final consonant landing on the second eighth, so that everyone’s S’s, T’s, and K’s arrived together. That gave us a clean separation, rather than a vague glottal gesture or just being told to stick it as close to the next word as possible. It also unified our rhythm and made the consonants far more pronounced, which is exactly what you need when singing German.

As is usually the case with German diction, the real work is getting the consonants out in front of the beat. JS has pushed this further and further, asking us to fill the space before the note with F’s, V’s, and Sch’s wherever we can. It works almost like a cymbal roll leading into the note, and it matters every bit as much as the percussive T’s and K’s that close a phrase. Our German coach, Pam Dellal, had us leaning into double R’s and double L’s, rolling the tongue so you can put it on the voice instead of gliding into it. The double T’s in Gott got special attention. JS reinforced all of that, and he lengthened the “sht” at the front of words like Stimmen. He assured us that we could never overdo this – what we thought was too much was just enough to make the difference in a space like Symphony Hall.

Throughout the process, JS treated us like professionals. Here are the notes – go read them, mark them, and come back prepared And we did. We also had Howard Zheng, our NEC Choral Conducting Fellow, running some of our warm-ups and taking extensive notes about what we needed to fix. That’s a real upgrade in how we prepare, and layer by layer, the piece started to take shape.

Bringing It All Together

If the preparation was baking the Baumkuchen, then the rehearsals with Maestro Philippe Jordan were the icing.

It’s easy to underestimate how much work this piece involves for the chorus, despite our only singing for not even a quarter of the movements. There’s so much orchestra, so many layers, and so many examples of back and forth between the soloists and the chorus. We had three full orchestra rehearsals scheduled to satisfy the conductor, more than we might normally have for a piece where the chorus sings relatively little.

Maestro Jordan came in with a very clear vision of what the piece should be, and he is just as clear in his signals. Many of his changes added to the drama (in a good way!) to make for a more interesting, more enjoyable interpretation: varying dynamic levels or phrasing in ways we hadn’t considered, or conveying emotions like breathless amazement, achievement, and pride. Other directions from him were simply reinforcing what JS had already given us: where S’s and R’s should land, how to approach certain passages. It was like viewing artwork from a different angle. He wasn’t just coaching the chorus, either. He asked for many things from the orchestra, such as a fiercer roar out of the lion (he asked the orchestra if they had ever been on a safari), and politely but relentlessly drilled them on his preferred entrance tempos, rubatos, and dynamic phrasing.

By far my favorite moment with Maestro Jordan came during the piano rehearsal. In some fugues, we basses had been holding back on our entrances. That’s not what he wanted; instead, he was exhorting us to come in fortissimo to establish the fugue’s theme. To demonstrate, he gave us a grand, sweeping gesture before our entrance and boomed out, “BASS!” It’s hard not to come barreling in when you see that upraised hand each time. Those spots are by far our most satisfying entrances now, and all he has to do is give us that same look.

All this makes Maestro Jordan, conducting from his fortepiano bench, a delight to sing for.

Why I Keep Saying Yes

I think I’d say yes to this piece any time it came up in the rotation. Part of that is a selfish practicality: this piece sits in a sweet spot for my voice, and by now I know it well. It’s a good sing for a bass. But the bigger reason is that, even after all these years and several performances and listens, The Creation still surprises me. The sunrise gets me every time. The lion’s roar and the worm’s crawl still make me grin. Singing it with a conductor who knows exactly what he wants, in a chorus that’s been prepped with this much care, reminds me of the joys of singing every time.

Here’s one funny story from rehearsal worth sharing. Maestro Jordan was coaching the tenor soloist to add a little more caution and foreboding to his final recitative. “Remember, you’re warning them – don’t eat the apple!” Someone on the risers to my right snorted and said, playfully, “Hello? Spoilers!” That cracked me up, because this is literally one of the oldest stories ever recorded, and the idea of somehow spoiling it is hilarious.

Upon reflection, I realize singing this “old story” is a big part of the appeal. Everyone in the hall already knows how this story ends, and people have been telling it for about as long as there have been stories to tell. Haydn’s version still lands like news. It’s a privilege to be one small part of the latest telling.

I hope the audience enjoys it as much as we do. And if you can’t decipher a word of German, don’t worry. Haydn has you covered.

Rediscovering singing

So, it turns out I still like singing.

You may have thought that a given. Why would there be any doubt? Heck, I’ve got a whole blog dedicated to the subject, and decades of ensemble singing experience. So why is there a question?

Well, yeah. Turns out there was a question.

It had been almost 18 months since I had truly sung with a proper group of singers. That was back in December 2019, as part of my 22nd tour of duty with the Holiday Pops concerts at Symphony Hall.

One insidious aspect of the global switch to video conferencing is that it gave a semblance of normalcy to everyone’s ability to accomplish work. For white collar workers like myself, I could still attend meetings, exchange ideas, and finish deliverables, and a variable fraction of a second delay in the video feed wasn’t a big deal. As many aspiring chorus collaborators learned, that delay completely prevented any hope of collaborative singing. Try it yourself the next time you’re on Zoom — see how impossible it is to synchronize your clapping with anyone on the call. So while the rest of the world limped along, all live performances of two or more groups ground to a halt.

Virtual choirs? We had been warned about their inability to satisfy the singers, but many of us, desperate for our singing fix, charged ahead with a few initiatives anyways. My wife and I gleefully jumped at the chance to be part of a few Holiday Pops virtual performances. We got all dressed up, rehearsed and rehearsed, set up the iPhone cameras, and had a good time producing satisfying solo recordings to be part of the composite performance. We recorded a few duets in our home. We fooled around with multi-track recordings of ourselves. We helped church choirs create virtual anthems, including Advent and Christmas performances… and I got a lot better at Final Cut Pro.

But it was not ensemble singing. None of it was.

When a part of your life disappears for so long, you begin to not notice it’s missing. Humans are good at adapting that way. We adapt to the new freedoms and responsibilities of life after high school. We adapt to the pain in our joints as we get older. We adapt to mask-wearing and extra sanitizing in a pandemic. We adapt to the loss of loved ones. In each case, we adjust to the new reality and try to retain memories of the old one. But like Chicharron’s final death in Coco, those memories fade if not renewed.

And so, like everyone else reprioritizing their lives in the pandemic era, I begin to doubt.

Did I like singing any more? It was a question I mentally asked myself now and then, once the opportunity was taken away. Might this be the right time to hang up the vocal cleats, and retire from the onus of rehearsal commitments? After all, it was rather nice as a family to not spend December 2020 playing schedule Jenga so we could rush back and forth to Symphony Hall and tag team our way through 18 holiday concerts. Not to mention having the summer free, even if travel was limited by the pandemic. Sure, the chorus has been an integral part of not only my life, from proposing to my wife on stage to tons of Symphony Hall and Tanglewood concert, but also my the rest of my family as well. But college was part of my life. Regular hockey and basketball games were part of my life. Various companies were part of my life. Life moves on.

Besides, singing at a high level takes constant practice to maintain, and extra work to catch up if there’s a hiatus. It’s like how professional athletes out of the sport for a few years can’t jump back in without a lot of training or rehab. Since singing is an avocation not a vocation for me, I don’t possess the time or discipline to maintain it on my own.

The pandemic permanently changed a lot of attitudes. Wearing masks during the winter now seems like a great way to avoid the flu. In 2019 I would have said that there’s no way I’d ever want to work remote full time; now we’re considering office/home hybrid schedules. Who needs movie theaters, 100+ cable stations, or live TV? Streaming services solved that problem. I could feel my attitude towards singing changing too.

On top of all this, as the chair of our chorus committee for 2020, my negative associations with the chorus grew as we faced month after month of no good news about singing in the future. All of the drama, none of the reward. The committee tried valiantly to plan virtual events to keep disaffected chorus members connected, because at some undetermined point in the future, we’d jump on the risers again. Hopefully. If enough people were left to do so.

I began to wonder if maybe I, too, was one of those disaffected choristers who didn’t miss singing so much.

Until last Sunday.


Sunday, ten friends, all of us experienced choral singers, assembled at a friend’s house out in western Massachusetts with a purpose. One of our number was getting married in a few weeks. With mask restrictions lifting and fully vaccinated invitees attending, he wanted a choral piece sung as part of the ceremony — specifically, this gorgeous arrangement of If Music Be The Food of Love by David Dickau.

All of us had copies of the music so we could learn notes on our own beforehand, to make the time together as productive as possible. Even then, once we sat in our semi-circle, we spent 5 minutes with our pencils going through the score together and agreeing on phrasing, breaths, dynamics, articulation, and divisi. We had a pre-recorded accompaniment, but someone had volunteered to conduct so we could watch her instead of guessing at timing ourselves. There was comfort in the ritual of marking up the score, like checking the tires for air and tightening the brakes before getting on that bike again.

And then we hit play, and started singing together.

In one of my favorite fantasy novels, there’s a scene in which the heroine has to spar with a friendly opponent. It’s not a big deal for him, but for her it’s the first time she’s picked up a sword since a terrible ordeal that left her physically and mentally crippled, and unable to fight. She had gone through a long process of healing, and suddenly the moment had come upon her to find out if she could do it again:

“With the clash of the blades her mind seemed to clear a little. Her arm moved of itself, countering his first slow strokes[…] If this, then that. The elbow bent so allows the angle here – she met each stroke squarely. It felt as if she were learning all over again: she had to think about almost every move. More came back to her; she tried a thrust past his guard. Blocked: but he looked surprised. So was she. Her body moved less stiffly, the sword began to feel natural in her hand again[…] “Enough.” […] She felt dizzy with relief: she had not dropped the sword, had not run away, had not fainted.”

That’s what I was feeling. No matter how much I had practiced solo, or harmonized with my wife, it was nothing compared to following a conductor and going through the actions of staying in unison with your stand partner, tuning to the other parts, feeling out the rhythm together, and achieving a group consensus of how you would distill the soul of the composer for an audience. It quickly became familiar in an overwhelming rush of unlocked memories. And… we sounded gorgeous. The harmonies, the interplay of the overtones, the legato, the swaying movement of the phrases… it was an in-your-face reminder that recordings never fully capture live performances, that listening is no substitute for creating, and that an experienced group of singers can manufacture joy.

I got emotional. I had to drop out after the first few bars, and then when I tried to come back in on the second page, I got choked up again and had to gather myself.

The rest of the 90 minutes or so was us going about the usual process of turning 80-90% good into 95-98% good. Balance and dynamics issues. Missed notes and cutoffs. Finding better places to breathe. Agreeing on how long a fermata should be, given our tempo was dictated by the recorded accompaniment. Rediscovering those breathing muscles to stretch 4-bar phrases into 8-bar phrases. Given everyone’s experience, we could self-regulate enough to identify problems and implement solutions.

So now I’m all in again. The wedding in a few weeks will already be a cause for celebration: certainly for our friend’s marriage but also for the opportunity to be with 50+ people in one place. Now, we can add another reason: a first live performance in 18 months, and the dispelling of doubt about my love of singing. It may not be till the end of this year that we’re singing as a chorus again. But at the downbeat, I’ll be ready.