Embrace the Chaos

"Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish." 
                                -Chuck Palahniuk

Conductors are all control freaks to some extent. We have an idealized version of the score in our head, and our rehearsal goals are usually oriented toward getting our ensembles to realize that perfect performance that we hear internally. While there's certainly something to be said for attracting people to your vision and persuading them to work toward a common artistic goal, in doing so we must be sensitive to the danger of treating our choristers simply as a means to some utopian artistic end.

In his wonderful book "Text & Act", musicologist Richard Taruskin writes at length about the dehumanizing effects of the "authenticity" movement (sometimes referred to as "historically-informed performance"). Taruskin contends, quite compellingly, that the exaltation of a musical "text" over the humans who perform it is not unlike the obsessive quest for utopia, and the rooting out of human flaws that such a quest entails:

Text-fetishism, the exaltation of scores over those who read or write them, has seriously distorted contemporary performance practice.

Taruskin goes on to exhort the reader:

It may be time for some countermilitancy - against authority, against utopia, against purity- on behalf of tradition... cumulative, multiply authored, open, accommodating, above all messy, and therefore human. 

Are you comfortable with the idea of "messy"? Where are you on the spectrum of "allowing" versus "controlling" with your ensemble? Can you permit a little chaos?

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KIRSTEN: This school year, I began working in a fabulous public school system teaching chorus to grades 5-8.  My 5th Grade Chorus is made up of almost 70 excited young singers, who come into the classroom right from recess with tons of energy and totally ready to sing. Last week, we began rehearsal by listening to the Glenn Miller Orchestra recording of "Chattanooga Choo Choo" (since we have been working on a 2-part arrangement of the piece in class.) As they all gathered their music and sat in their seats, they began to organically clap along to the beat of the recording, swaying to the music. We then stood together and energetically began warm-ups with breathing, stretching, and then singing a major scale with hand signs. Hands went flying in the air as I asked for a volunteer "group leader" to lead us in hand signs as we sang the scale. After completing our first round, hands flew in the air again. "Really?" I asked the group of 5th graders. "Would you like to try this in two parts?"

"YES!" They yelled. "We can do it!"

This pattern continued to four parts, when I finally drew a line and told them it was time to move on to rehearsing "Chattanooga." They giggled and continued, applauding themselves for their recent major-scale success. I began the piano accompaniment to "Chattanooga," and they started the opening lyrics with so much confidence that the sound was almost a brash yell-sing.

In that moment, however, I felt more pure joy in the choral classroom from my students than I had ever felt. Could I have stopped them immediately and told them to sing with a better tone, and not to push or sing too loud? Sure. In fact, I have several choral colleagues who would probably reprimand me for not doing so, insisting that singing with "poor technique" could become a "habit" for the young singers. However, in that moment I knew that the basic human lessons being taught outweighed the musical quality lessons by a long shot. These students were singing wholeheartedly, full-bodied, and with confidence. For a short moment in time, they were not aware of what others were thinking, but were rather so caught up in singing with their biggest voice that they just didn't notice anything else in the room.

Stopping them and correcting their vocal technique would have quickly demolished several human lessons that the students were learning. Had any choral conductor walked in my classroom during that rehearsal, they probably would have reprimanded me for allowing the students to sing as brashly as they were singing that day. However, I can confidently say that I wouldn't have changed it for the world.

KRISHAN: When I first began working with a professional ensemble, I was obsessed with "running a tight ship". I wouldn't take questions in rehearsal, and was an absolute stickler about time, often glossing over legitimate chorister concerns in the interest of adhering to my rehearsal plan. As I've matured, I've grown less rigid in my approach. Though I still run a tight ship, I have begun to recognize the benefits of a little healthy chaos in my rehearsals. Whereas in my early days I would get frustrated if choristers began talking amongst themselves during rehearsal- thinking that I'd "lost control" of the room- I've now become open to allowing a more organic musical process to unfold. It's still my overarching musical vision that is driving the rehearsals, but my choristers are more active in the process of guiding each other, rather than all of the direction coming from the "top down". So when I pause in rehearsal, and choristers immediately begin talking to each other, pointing out passages that they missed, asking each other questions about the score, etc., I allow that "chaos" to unfold. As long as their overlapping conversations are about the music, we're still making progress toward our common goals.

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The pursuit of musical excellence is a noble one, and worth committing to with every fiber of our being. But choral music is also about affirming people, meeting them where they're at, and allowing individuals to express themselves in an environment where mistakes are encouraged, and unique voices celebrated. Our most enduring successes will always be the ones that we reach through empowering others. When we're able to do this - often by refraining from judging or overly controlling- we ultimately release a potential that leads to far greater results than we could ever achieve on our own.