Know Thyself

"The world wants to assign you a role in life. And once you accept that role, you are doomed."
                             -Robert Greene

In the 1999 philosophical sci-fi film The Matrix, Keanu Reeves' character undergoes an existential crisis. Throughout the film, he's trying to discover his true self: is he Thomas Anderson, respectable computer programmer, or is he Neo, underground hacker and savior of the human race in the coming war with the machines? The tension of Neo's self-discovery drives much of the film, as we follow him deeper "into the rabbit hole" in search of his true identity. Is he really The One, the messianic individual prophesied to save the human race? The only way to know for sure is to consult The Oracle.

In a pivotal scene in the film, Neo visits The Oracle, who turns out to be a folksy, grandmotherly woman baking cookies. Above the door to her kitchen is posted an aphorism in Latin: Temet Nosce. The Oracle asks Neo if he knows what this means. She tells him: "Know Thyself". She then asks him if he believes that he is truly The One. When he hesitates and asks, "I'm not The One?", The Oracle merely replies, "Sorry, kid. You got the gift, but it looks like you're waiting for something." Neo leaves The Oracle, discouraged. But later in the film, we discover that he really is The One; it was only his uncertainty that had prevented him from realizing his true self.

As choral leaders, we'll inevitably encounter people with conflicting opinions about us and our work. We'll come across those individuals whose sole purpose seems to be to tell us that we're not really as good as we think we are. Temet Nosce is an admonition to avoid placing too much stock in the criticisms of the multitude (in contemporary parlance, "haters gonna hate"). This is not to say that we should close ourselves off to constructive criticism; on the contrary, we should regularly solicit feedback from individuals who know our work and our values, and with whom we share mutual trust. But we also need to have enough sense of our own self that we're able to withstand and disregard criticisms that we don't agree with.

Stephen R. Covey has a wonderful term for this: "the social mirror". The social mirror is the reflection of ourselves given back to us by society. Covey likens this to the warped funhouse mirrors found at carnivals, in which our reflection is shifting, twisted, and out of all perspective. The social mirror is by its very nature inaccurate, because it reflects back so many disparate and conflicting biases. One critic may hail us as a musical genius, while another may denigrate us as a complete hack. The point is, the social mirror will invariably give us a skewed vision of ourselves. Therefore, we must cultivate our own identity from within, an identity that is not subject to the caprices of society.

Music is a competitive business, and we'll all experience setbacks in our careers at one time or another. During those times, it's particularly important that our basic identity and self-worth remain intact. Doubt may creep in, but we must resist the temptation to "throw the baby out with the bathwater" just because we receive a bad review or are passed over for a job.

The bestselling novelist Jodi Picault tells an anecdote about picking up a job application at Home Depot after she had already published several novels. She didn't crack the New York Times bestseller list until her fourteenth novel; before that, Picault went through a long spell where her work simply wasn't sustaining her financially.  It would have been easy for her to take the message that the world was giving her: "You're just a second-rate novelist. Don't quit your day job." Her belief in her own value as a first-rate novelist superseded the warped reflection that society was giving her.

This is one of the inherent problems with master classes. A conducting student may spend years cultivating a technique that is clear, efficient, and suited to his or her unique physicality, skills and shortcomings. Then along comes an "expert" who has never seen that individual conduct, who has no investment in the student's development, and that expert proceeds to dismantle the student's technique. We've all seen master classes like this, and they tend to be more about the "master" than about the student's individual needs. Yet the student, who is more often than not a respectful individual sincerely interested in constructive criticism, feels obligated to completely reinvent his- or herself in the model of the visiting expert.

Again, there is much to be said for receiving feedback when it is given with an awareness of your needs, your aspirations, and your limitations. But only by knowing yourself can you efficiently apply what a one-time teacher is giving you. To try to do otherwise is an exercise in futility; you'll be forever re-training yourself, chasing the impossible goal of pleasing everyone.

All of us have areas of psychological vulnerability, and when someone out there in the world touches one of these deep wounds, whether intentionally or inadvertently, it can be particularly painful and difficult to bounce back. Those of us who were middle children in our families may have struggled to overcome the feeling of being unseen or neglected; it can therefore be especially hurtful if we're made to feel that we're not valued in a professional environment. Elder children, on the other hand, may have grown up with the crushing weight of expectations, feeling that nothing they did was ever good enough. These people may find themselves driven to despair in professional situations where their Herculean efforts are greeted with criticism or apathy. We must also remember, then, that our interpretation of criticism and feedback is colored by our own biases; all the more reason for us to be able to accept criticism for what it is: merely one person's opinion.

As we advance in our careers, we're bound to encounter resistance, both internal and external. Developing confidence in our own basic self-worth as musicians and as human beings will help us remain undeterred by the vicissitudes of our profession.

How To "Unchoir Your Choir"

"The way to be successful in the software world is to come up with breakthrough software. New ideas, surprising the marketplace... so good engineering and good business are one in the same."
                                                                                   -Bill Gates

Some of our readers have asked where the title "Unchoir Your Choir" came from. In conceiving this blog, we wanted to challenge the status quo of choral vision and leadership, which we have generally found to be lacking, even in professional organizations. Some of you may be familiar with the following traits, typical to many choirs:

• starting/ending rehearsal late
• lack of rehearsal planning
• failing to rehearse concert logistics
• indecisive direction, especially in musical details
• poor quality marketing/advertising
• last-minute communication
• self-imposed limitations

Obviously, there are choirs where these issues have been addressed and eradicated, and we applaud those organizations. But even in our successful choruses, we still struggle with some of these pernicious issues.

So in undertaking this blog, we decided to focus less on the artistic aspects of choral music, and to focus instead on the leadership skills that choral conductors need to learn (but that, sadly, are almost never taught).

Because so many choirs embody these undesirable traits, choral conductors often get a bad rap in the larger classical musical world. Often, we're seen as musical lightweights who contribute little more than floofy platitudes; certainly, it's easier to get by as a choral conductor with poor (or nonexistent) training than it is to do the same in the orchestral field (this can be seen as an extension of the paradigm that many of us encounter in some opera singers, where vocal technique is emphasized to the exclusion of basic musicianship).

The approach of "unchoiring" your choir, then, can be seen as a thorough reexamination of the values that govern your organization. Our aim is to convince you to view your choir as you would any other entrepreneurial enterprise, being brutally honest with yourself about where you can afford to cut corners, where you're falling short, and where your greatest strengths are.

**

KIRSTEN: In January, 2016, my friend Carey Shunskis and I founded the South Shore Children's Chorus. As we initiated this brand new venture in Massachusetts- a state with several established children's choruses already, though none located on the South Shore of Boston- the two of us had specific values that we wanted to portray to parents, students, and the general public. We aimed to send the message of professionalism and confidence through our marketing efforts, spending a hefty amount of budget and time on social media, website building, e-blast cultivation, and logo branding. I built our website to include online registration, where parents could easily register their student from a computer, tablet, or smartphone.

Additionally, we gave each student that walked in the door several materials with our SSCC logo printed on it in our organization's color (a bright, recognizable teal) including bags, folders, water bottles, pencils, and lanyards. When we were invited to sing on local access television, we immediately rush-ordered matching t-shirts with our logo and slogan, and had them delivered the day before the filming.

These marketing efforts were not easy and not necessarily intuitive. There were several things that we needed to give up in our budget in order to afford all of these efforts. However, we found that these steps worked completely in our favor. We currently have over 65 students registered for our programming after being only established for 4 months. I have had several comments from parents, students, and fellow music teachers who have seen our website and couldn't believe that the organization is brand new.

This is the goal. The goal is to move beyond conformity and low expectations. As a brand new children's chorus organization, the public expects us to be disorganized, or to have specific difficulties (such as an amateurish website). Going against these preconceived limitations has won over several parents in the area, and we continue to grow with new registrations daily! I cannot over-emphasize the need to break out of "what people think" you will be as your chorus organization, and to move beyond that. Surprising people with the unexpected is the best way to get them to remember you.


KRISHAN: One of SACRA/PROFANA's altos and I share an obsession with the TV show LOST, which aired on ABC from 2004-2010. In 2012, the show's producer Carlton Cuse tweeted about how he was working on a project with the author Rob Bell, and they were looking for a band to play two songs during a live event they were producing at a warehouse space in L.A. The band would be a prominent part of the interactive show, which also featured interviews and audience Q & A. At my alto's behest, I sent SACRA/PROFANA's 2012 Payphone video to the production team. A few days later, I received a call from Carlton Cuse's assistant in L.A., and a conference call with Cuse and Rob Bell was quickly arranged. When I got on the conference call, I heard for the first time what was to become a repeated refrain during the next few years: "We're big fans of SACRA/PROFANA".

At the event in L.A., the singers of SACRA/PROFANA were specifically asked not to look like a choir, but rather to "dress like normal people". Given the general demographic of the audience (20s - 30s L.A. hipsters, including at least one LOST cast member), our singers fit right in. We "flash mobbed" an arrangement of "Bright Morning Stars", and then actually taught part of the arrangement to the audience. Conducting these folks (including Bell and Cuse) in a four-part a cappella arrangement was surreal to say the least. When we finished, Rob Bell looked at me and said, "Wow. You really are reinventing the choir."

Cuse and Bell were looking for a rock band to complement their show- not a choir (or, as I like to think, they didn't know they wanted a choir until they met us). But we had begun to position SACRA/PROFANA as a unique vocal ensemble that, while essentially choral-based, is distinctly not your typical choir (and yet, clearly is a choir in the way that groups like the Pentatonix aren't). Defying people's expectations about what a choir can be remains one of my great joys as a choral conductor.

**

We want to hear your thoughts on how you can "unchoir your choir". Every conductor has his or her own strengths or weaknesses. Every organization does certain things well, while they could improve in other aspects. Where could your choir improve, and what is your plan of action to work against the status quo and surprise your audience and community? Please comment below and let us know - we can't wait to hear how you are going to change the choral community by "unchoiring your choir"!

Consistency Is King

             "Long-term consistency trumps short-term intensity"
                                                                - Bruce Lee

In our experience as choral singers and conductors, we've come to place an extremely high value on consistency. In fact, we would suggest that consistency may be the single most valuable quality that a leader can possess, trumping many other, flashier qualities like personality and skill set.

We've all worked with that "star player"- the choral singer who's at such a high level that we just can't bear to let them go, no matter how many times they're late or absent from rehearsal. The antithesis of this person is the stalwart chorister of moderate talent, who's always early to rehearsal, who's never missed a single day. As we progress in our careers and begin to observe the long-term trends in organizations, we've come to believe in the supreme value of consistency and reliability, both in choristers and conductors. We can confidently state that organizational trust and long-term, sustainable success follow consistency, as naturally and predictably as day follows night.

**

KIRSTEN: When Krishan and I originally founded the SACRA/PROFANA Summer Choral Intensive program for high school students in 2014, it was successful in that we were able to recruit so many young singers in the area. In 2015, we reached almost 100 students and parents. These families trusted in the consistency of communication from SACRA/PROFANA, and from myself as Education Programs Coordinator.

When other local organizations and teachers began to see how many students were gathered to attend SCI, I began receiving several requests to send out advertisement emails or to hand out flyers to our SCI students and parents on behalf of other programs, choral opportunities, and private studios. Though it struck many as overly protective, I denied all of these requests.

SCI students and parents relied on the consistency of my communications. I would spend hours on a single e-mail, making sure that the information was as clear and concise as possible. Being a rather verbose person, I would begin with e-mails that were pages long, and would slowly whittle down to a few important paragraphs and bullet points. Allowing even one organization or teacher to advertise through my communication would mean that I would have to allow every organization or teacher that same courtesy.  Soon, I would have parents and students ignoring e-mails from me, assuming they were spam from other sources.

Relationships with choristers, parents, and audience members are fragile, and completely reliant on trust and consistency. While I didn't necessarily please the numerous colleagues asking me to help them advertise, I did strengthen the relationship between the SCI families, myself, and the SACRA/PROFANA organization as a whole.


KRISHAN: When I was hired for my first full-time Music Director job at a church in Providence, RI, I inherited an Associate Music Director- a middle-aged woman who had been at the parish for decades. She was essentially self-taught, and was fairly opinionated about keeping certain things the way they had always been. As a recent college graduate looking to shake things up, I was initially frustrated by the fact that my Associate was "cramping my style"; I wanted her to enthusiastically get behind my brilliant, unorthodox vision for reshaping the music program at the parish, since I was clearly the expert. Despite our differences in musical taste, we developed a warm relationship within the first few years, based on mutual respect and personal trust. And as time went on, it became abundantly clear to me why this woman was so beloved in the parish. She was never late. She was always prepared, and absolutely refused to "wing it" or to do anything without adequate prep time. She was stunningly consistent.

When I began working on my Masters at Yale, I kept my church job in Providence, commuting from New Haven on the weekends. The drive typically took anywhere from 90 minutes to 2 hours. One weekend, I planned the commute poorly and realized about 40 minutes before Mass that I wasn't going to make it on time. In a panic, I phoned my Associate, who lived about 5 minutes from the church. She was able to cover for me at a moment's notice; it was one of many times that her consistency saved the day. Without showing up, all of my musical expertise and training counted for exactly nothing.

**

It doesn't necessarily take prodigious talent or genius to rise to the level of greatness, if you can be consistent in implementing positive values. Here are some simple steps for choral leaders:

1. SHOW UP. We're consistently dismayed at the number of people in leadership positions who can't even do this reliably. Just showing up- consistently, reliably and on time- puts you in the top 10% of your field.

2. START ON TIME. The subject of timeliness has already been discussed here (ad nauseam!), but it's worth emphasizing. Starting consistently on time creates a culture of productivity and accountability.

3. HAVE A POSITIVE ATTITUDE. We all encounter frustrations in our work, but being able to respond to these with grace and good humor is a powerful way to build trust with your ensemble. When members of your ensemble worry about whether you're in a good mood on any given day, it's a sign that trust isn't really there.

4. TREAT EVERYONE THE SAME. "Star players" don't get special allowances (if anything, they should be leading by example). If there's a policy on lateness or absenteeism, it must apply to everyone (including the conductor!).

5. COMMUNICATE EFFECTIVELY. E-mail is a great tool for giving your choristers advance notice and reminders of upcoming events. But communicating via e-mail also brings the responsibility of communicating consistently- they need to trust that your e-mails are timely (not last-minute) and necessary (i.e., you don't e-mail them more than once a week).

As we demonstrated in our examples above, consistency is hard. It's difficult to show up on time, every time, and we all fall short occasionally. But the goal is to create a high enough level of consistency that we only miss the mark once in a blue moon (ultimately, we hope that our instances of inconsistency are so rare that our choristers become truly alarmed when we're not on time!). You can begin by setting small goals; start with Step 1, and go from there.

Don't Peak Too Soon

"A higher rate of urgency does not imply ever-present anxiety, panic or fear. It means a state in which complacency is virtually absent."
                                        -John P. Kotter

As we wrap up "Time Management Month", we're going to address the issue of long-range rehearsal planning. Most of us are good about planning on a week-by-week basis, outlining each rehearsal as it comes (although some conductors fail to do even that). An equally important skill is the ability to think long-range, and to plan a protracted sequence of rehearsals accordingly. This takes deep strategic thinking, but when done right, long-range rehearsal planning can really augment your choristers' experience and enhance the pacing of your ensemble's progress toward a performance goal.

We've all participated in performances where the ensemble simply wasn't "ready for prime time", when one or two additional rehearsals would've made all the difference. Perhaps less common is the scenario when an ensemble is performance-ready well in advance of the performance date, and the ensemble finds itself with time to kill. This may sound like a non-issue, but in our experience, urgency is a great motivator; conversely, the lack of urgency over an extended period of time can really drain an ensemble's momentum.

It's beneficial to always have a "challenge" on the horizon for your ensemble- something that they're working toward. This keeps people engaged, and often brings our their best qualities: their creativity, their passion, their work ethic. Peaking too soon in the rehearsal process can cause people to check out, and by the time the performance rolls around, they've already psychologically moved on.

**

KRISHAN: I recently had the pleasure of working with the Boston University Singers, a 50-60 voice ensemble comprised mostly of undergraduate voice majors (with some grad students and composers thrown in for good measure). Earlier this month, I conducted this group in a challenging 25-minute cantata by Nico Muhly, a contemporary composer who writes in a highly inventive style that isn't necessarily intuitive for young singers. We had about six 70-minute rehearsals to prepare the choral parts, plus two rehearsals of similar length with the orchestra. As I considered the rehearsal schedule during the planning process, I knew this was going to be barely enough rehearsal time; I was aware that we'd be going into the first orchestra rehearsal with notes still unlearned. I was nervous about being able to successfully pull off a convincing rendition of the piece, and my trepidation was heightened by the fact that the composer was going to be present for the dress rehearsal and the performance.

As we got into performance week, however, I realized that we had exactly the right amount of rehearsal time. By the penultimate rehearsal, the energy was ramping up and the performers were just starting to really "get" the piece (certainly, having both chorus and orchestra present helped!). By the dress rehearsal, I sensed a genuine excitement in the air, as the performers were right at the threshold of conquering this difficult piece. We peaked at exactly the right moment- during the performance, in front of the audience.


KIRSTEN: In the 2014-2015 school year, I had the opportunity to work with my first high school show choir. Though I'd had plenty of musical theatre experience, my only choral experience had been classically-based. When it came time for competition season, I turned to the student leaders (comprised mostly of seniors) to manage rehearsal style/time. I quickly had the students learning the simple pop arrangements, and they had the parts memorized and performance ready in a very short amount of time. I was proud of their preparedness, and was confident that they would perform the pieces accurately and with ease.

What I failed to realize was the length of competition season. Two months later, we were found still rehearsing the same 5 pop pieces - perfecting tone, articulation, projection, balance, choreography, costumes, and more. I found myself getting quickly bored with the music, and I would have rather rehearsed anything else than those pop songs one more time. The students were performing well, but often would lose details quickly and revert to singing plain notes and rhythms. In this situation, the students and conductor peaked too early, and there was no urgency to drive the music-learning process forward. The spark and energy had left the rehearsal process, and it became a redundant and dull class period.

I learned through experience that there is such a thing as too much rehearsal time!

**

While there's obviously something to be said for erring on the side of caution and allowing yourself some wiggle room, it's also important to keep in mind the very real phenomena of group dynamics. A musical performance, unlike a sporting event, doesn't allow the uncertainty of whether out team will win or lose. Nevertheless, a little uncertainty isn't necessarily a bad thing; a sporting event isn't any fun if we know the outcome beforehand!

"Can I Chat With You For A Minute?"

"There is a time for everything, and a season for everything under the heavens... 
  a time to speak, and a time to be silent."  
                                                    -Ecclesiastes 3

We've designated March as "Time Management Month", and our recent posts have dealt with ways to make more efficient use of rehearsal time. This week, however, we'd like to explore the flip side of efficient time management: allowing room in your schedule for unstructured time with choristers.

All conductors are busy, and in truth, many are probably too busy to function effectively. But in our constant state of busy-ness, it's easy to lose sight of the value- the necessity, really- of being truly present for our choristers in a way that goes beyond structured time.

We work with human beings- their instruments are themselves. Stress, frustration, anger and sadness can all take a toll on the vocal instrument. Part of our job, then, is to build sufficient trust and rapport with our choristers to allow them to free their voices confidently. One of the most powerful ways to do this is to sincerely listen when they have individual concerns.

When we're scattered and overcommitted, we simply can't be fully present to provide the emotional space and support that many of our choristers need. When we're running to our next gig immediately after rehearsal, we deprive people of the opportunity to connect with us.

**

KRISHAN: During my last few years in San Diego, before relocating to Boston to pursue my Doctorate at Boston University, I became acutely aware of just how overcommitted I was. In fact, this realization was my initial impetus for wanting to make a significant change in my life. I was responsible for six or seven liturgies every weekend, and was conducting SACRA/PROFANA in at least one performance each month. I was constantly running to the next commitment, and it was having a negative effect on my relationships and my ability to grow as an artist. I found myself getting annoyed when people would try to talk to me after church- even when they only wanted to offer me a complement! I genuinely felt that I couldn't afford to spare even one minute.

As I got settled in Boston in the fall of 2015, I was keenly aware of the danger of becoming overcommitted again. So I decided to take on as little as I could; in addition to my coursework at B.U., I found a half-time church job, and took only a few sporadic conducting gigs here and there. I really wanted to make sure that I had ample time in my schedule for focused and thorough study, and for true devotion to my new parish.

The results have been literally life-changing for me. I'm always on time now; usually I arrive to my destination a few minutes early. Often I'm the first one there, even when it's not a rehearsal that I'm in charge of. And I also feel that I can stay late. After church on Sundays, I linger. I socialize with the choristers as they chat after Mass, and I'm usually the last one to leave. I have found that making myself available to my choristers has had a profound impact on the morale of the ensemble. Sometimes people just want to talk about things that have nothing to do with music; they just want to relate to their conductor as a human being. People still say to me, "I know you're really busy, but...". My new favorite response is: "It's ok. I have time."


KIRSTEN: I used to have a really hard time listening. I tend to talk and move so fast that people often don't think I'm hearing what they have to say. Even at times when I felt that I was giving people the opportunity to speak, in retrospect I realize that my body language and even my general energy was probably sending a different message: even though I wasn't talking at the moment, I also wasn't necessarily listening. I learned that I need to make a conscious effort not only to listen, but to communicate that I am really listening, deeply and sincerely.

As a natural extrovert, this is a daily challenge for me. Every time one of my private students walks into a lesson, I ask them the question: "What's one great thing that happened to you this week?". I also make a point of always asking a follow-up question, to demonstrate that I'm truly interested in their experience. If I can remember the things that happen to them from week to week, and follow up about what's going on in their lives, it communicates that I'm engaged and interested in them as people.

**

The ability to sincerely listen to another human being is something that doesn't necessarily come naturally; for most of us, it's a learned skill. It takes great personal maturity to put our own agendas aside long enough to truly hear another person's concerns. In order to do this, we need to be available to people- we need to allow our choristers (or our colleagues, or our supervisors) sufficient access to our time that we can truly be present for them. Genuine listening provides us with the opportunity to see the world through another person's eyes. This is a rare- and therefore, vital- skill to develop, and can only be cultivated if we allow time for it.

Don't Waste My Time, And I Won't Waste Yours

"Time is what we want most, but what we use worst."
                                                                    -William Penn

Everybody appreciates when things run on time. Airlines' flights are rated on their likelihood for on-time departure. The idea of a television broadcast starting late is unheard of. By the same token, our earliest experiences with public accountability involve being reprimanded for tardiness in elementary school. In many areas of civic life, lateness is just not an option.

So why do so many choir directors have difficulty starting rehearsals (or even performances) on time? Some may argue that they're waiting for choristers (or audience) to arrive. But is this really a justifiable rationale? In high school, when the bell rings, it's go time- it doesn't matter who's missing. We've found that introducing a culture of timeliness creates trust (since it bolsters reliability), while promoting professionalism and accountability.

Of course, lateness will always occur. Especially with community and children's choruses, it can be virtually impossible to enforce timeliness without a heavy-handed system of reprimands (which we don't recommend). Nevertheless, we as leaders can send a message of high expectations and commitment when we strive to create an environment where things run on time.

Although it may be challenging to implement strict time-keeping with a new ensemble where choristers are used to a more casual approach, in our experience introducing this practice from Day 1 will eventually send the message that you respect choristers' time, and that you expect them to respect yours as well. In choirs that are accustomed to this practice, it's common for most (if not all choristers) to be seated and waiting to begin a minute or two before the scheduled start time. Once that time has arrived, there may even be an air of expectation for rehearsal to begin.

**

KRISHAN: As an undergraduate, I was chronically late. Even while working on my Masters at Yale, I struggled to get to my commitments on time. However, while singing with the Yale Schola Cantorum during my first semester, Simon Carrington quickly broke me of this habit with a few well-chosen words that are forever etched in my memory.

Another tenor and I were rushing to rehearsal, knowing that we'd be a few minutes late. "No big deal," we told each other, "We'll be like three minutes late." We hurried in a few minutes after downbeat to find the choir standing and Simon already deep into focused work with the ensemble. Without looking up at the two of us, he said sternly, "Don't waste my time, gentlemen, and I won't waste yours." The message was clear: once downbeat arrived, he was going to get down to business. Not only would latecomers be compromising the integrity of his work; their frantic entrance would also be a distraction for the rest of the ensemble. I was never late for him again. In my mind, it simply wasn't an option.


KIRSTEN: At 2:30, the bell rang at San Diego High School for the end of the day. By this time, I was usually in the band room, setting up for choir rehearsal that began at 3:00pm sharp. There was no choir class for credit offered at the school, so the volunteer after school choir club - ironically dubbed re[CHOIR]ed - met weekly. Every week, regardless of who was in their chairs, I began rehearsal at 3:00pm in order to get the most out of our short amount of rehearsal time.

It wasn't until my second year of teaching that I realized how much timeliness had become essential to the high school choristers involved in re[CHOIR]ed. The first time I realized that timeliness was so important to them was when I was running late, and expecting to arrive at 2:50pm rather than my usual arrival time of 2:30. At around 2:45, my phone began buzzing with several concerned emails from students, wondering if rehearsal was still happening. I realized how much they had the expectation that I would be setting up rehearsal reliably at 2:30pm for them to begin right at 3:00.

Not only did I notice how much this affected our choir as a whole, but it also affected individual choristers. I had one student who, during our Summer Choral Intensive Program with SACRA/PROFANA, noticed every moment that I said "10 minute break" and would always come up to me at 8 minutes, warning me that break was almost over.

I was able to take several of my students to a choral festival one year, which they were very much looking forward to. All of my students arrived 20-30 minutes early for the 9:00am downbeat, ready to get their things together and prepare for rehearsal. When the festival conductor did not even begin warming up until 9:17am, my students came to me, frustrated, and asked me why he was disrespecting their time.

When I initially began making a big deal about starting our rehearsals on time, my only goal was to get as much time as possible rehearsing with the students, because 2 hours per week was our only time to prepare full concerts in the winter and in the spring. Timeliness became more than that - it quickly became a sign of respect for my student choristers. I hope they will carry that into their professional lives and careers.

**

If you make a habit of starting on time, we can confidently predict that your choristers will eventually embrace this practice. That doesn't mean that everyone will always be on time, and especially with church choirs and children's choruses, we need to be sensitive to the other factors that may be causing tardiness. But in our experience, the vast majority of choristers will get on board, and will be happy to do so once they can reliably expect that their time will not be wasted. That means that we as choral leaders must have a focused rehearsal plan- and, of course, we must be sure to always let people go at the scheduled dismissal time.

In this age of smart phones, it's easier than ever to set a notification for exactly the top of the hour. Set a goal for yourself to always begin and end on time, and you may be surprised at your choristers' willingness to rise to the occasion.

Taking Questions During Rehearsal

"Since time is the one immaterial object which we cannot influence, it is an imponderably valuable gift."
      - Maya Angelou

With daylight savings time coming up on March 13th, we thought it would be a good time to talk about the topic of time management. So we're officially designating March 2016 "Time Management Month"!

The ability to effectively manage one's time, both in and out of rehearsal, is a critical skill for every choral conductor to have. Sadly, many conductors have a relatively poor ability to manage time (Krishan: I struggled with time management for years, before getting my act together while working on my Master's).

As we go through the month of March, we'll present several posts on this topic- each dealing with a different aspect of time management. In today's post, we want to address the controversial topic of *questions during rehearsal*. What does this have to do with time management, you ask? Read on!

A colleague of ours once made the astute observation that many of the questions asked during choral rehearsals were not actually questions at all. Rather, they were either passive-aggressive statements about what other singers were doing (or failing to do), or they were suggestions to the conductor about how to run the rehearsal. "Shouldn't measure 21 be piano? Because that's not what we're doing." "Did you actually want a hard 'rrr' at the end of 'Father'?". "I'm hearing a lot of disagreement in our 'oo' vowel. How closed do you want it?"

Certainly these are all legitimate concerns. The problem, though, is that it's the conductor's job to address these issues in his or her own good time. When listening to the ensemble, the conductor has certain priorities in mind; the issues raised by choristers may be so far down the list at the moment that they're raised, that the conductor has to address more pressing problems before these.

This is where time management comes into play. The conductor is ultimately responsible for managing the flow of rehearsal. If he lets himself get sidetracked by every little thing, he's not doing his job. We've seen situations where one or two choristers have essentially hijacked the rehearsal to insist on drilling notes that they already should have learned, while the rest of the ensemble has sat idle. The conductor has to have enough sense of purpose (and backbone) to keep things moving toward a common goal, and enough planned for rehearsal that stopping to field every single question isn't even an option.

Every conductor has a list of priorities for each ensemble. When time is precious, questions should probably be discouraged. When working with a new ensemble, particularly one comprised entirely of volunteers (such as a church or community chorus), building trust might be the conductor's top priority. In such an environment, the conductor may need to subject his or her artistic agenda to the human concerns of the community being served; the conductor may then decide to address any and all questions as fully as possible, so that the choristers really feel the conductor is attentive to their concerns. In an educational environment, students might very well be asking legitimate questions about aspects of the notation that need to be clarified before they can even attempt to perform what's on the page.

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KRISHAN: When working as Chorus Master on Odyssey Opera's Boston premiere of Massenet's Le Cid last year, we began the first rehearsal with our excellent Chorus Manager asking the chorus to kindly hold all of their questions until the break. I had been brought in on relatively short notice to prepare a chorus of about 65 high-level choristers in 3+ hours of Romantic French opera that none of them had ever sung before. We had three rehearsals before we saw the conductor and the orchestra- a schedule that had been set before I was brought on board. I knew that rehearsal time would be extremely tight, so I asked my Chorus Manager to enact a no-questions policy. At the time, I had only recently moved to Boston, and I didn't know any of the singers in the chorus; so I had absolutely no idea what kind of questions might come out if I called on an individual. Furthermore, we were singing this opera in French, which meant there would be lots of differing opinions on pronunciation. Sensing that there was a real possibility for these rehearsals to turn into a free-for-all, I requested a no-questions policy in order to ensure that our time together was focused and efficient. I spent each break discussing questions with choristers (which I was happy to do), and our rehearsal time was extremely streamlined and productive.

With my church choir, however, it's an entirely different scenario. Efficiency isn't the priority there- relationship-building is. So I take time in my church choir rehearsals to solicit questions, and I try to make sure that everyone's really on the same page. I often have to check my natural tendency to plow ahead, and take a step back. This is a growth area for me as a conductor; I believe that listening is an important skill that many of us lack proficiency in, so I'm grateful to have an opportunity to work on that in an environment which is somewhat less urgent than what I'm used to.


KIRSTEN:  I loved being in my college chamber choir more than just about anything. The conductor was kind, funny, and knowledgeable, and the whole group was a family. However, looking back on the four years that I sang in that group, I realize that I definitely qualified as a "section police" choir member. I liked being able to raise my hand and ask questions about things in the music I noticed we weren't performing. I was at a stage in my development, both personally and musically, that I wanted the room to know that I noticed these things. Being the "section police" was my way of truly trying to help the group that I loved singing with sound better.

It wasn't until after I graduated from school and began singing in several other groups (community choirs, church choirs, professional groups, teaching high school choirs, etc.) that I realized just how unhelpful "section police" are in a choir - especially in the middle of rehearsal. From experience I understand that the comment/suggestion may be well-intended, however it can come off very differently. Once I noticed this quality in other singers, I began to quiet my questions during rehearsal, and only asked the conductor privately before rehearsal, after rehearsal, or during break.

Choristers: I would encourage you to think about a few things before asking questions in rehearsal.
"Am I confused about this, or is my 'question' really a suggestion about how the choir should sound?"
"Is this something that I am very sure that the conductor will not address at any point during the rehearsal process?"
"Is this question so dire that I need to ask the conductor now? Can I wait until the end of rehearsal or break time to ask, in order to avoid interrupting the conductor?"

I try and ask myself these questions to circumvent my natural tendency of wanting to be "section police." However, it's important to note that any question-asking policy is going to be situational. Could one of my high schoolers go an entire rehearsal without knowing where they are looking on the page? Yes. However, I would never want them to feel like they couldn't ask that question, as that would be detrimental to their experience. My policy on answering questions in rehearsal varies depending on the level of singers that I am working with.

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For every singer who truly needs to ask a question and have their concerns heard, there is another singer who's keenly aware of how much rehearsal time is being wasted in fruitless debate. We all want to be seen as kind people, but this desire can sometimes make us overindulgent when fielding questions during rehearsal. Being too easily distracted from our planned rehearsal trajectory can result in an unfocused, fatiguing rehearsal- especially for those more introverted choristers who really crave strong direction and purpose during rehearsal.

One good compromise we've discovered is to allow questions in rehearsal, but to use "ask me again at break" as a default response (unless the answer requires zero thought). There's nothing worse than watching a conductor get sidetracked for 5 minutes of rehearsal as he or she fumbles around trying to answer an unanticipated question (that, more often than not, has nothing to do with the issue at hand). Inviting questions during break time, especially in a professional choral setting, is a great way to encourage those choristers who truly want to contribute, without having to interrupt the rehearsal flow. It also allows you as the conductor to recognize that chorister in a public way: "Mary raised a great question during the break. Everyone take a look at measure 98".

Have you worked with conductors who absolutely refused to address questions during rehearsal? Or have you had the opposite experience, where rehearsals turned into a free-for-all? We'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments section!