Rick Seaholm I participated in a roundtable discussion on “Saving the World Through Singing” at the American Choral Directors Association Eastern Division‘s biannual conference in February 2016. The following is a recollection of my opening statement, following the conversation.
As someone whose primary musical expression comes as a church musician, I find that ACDA membership and event topics are largely directed toward those whose primary musical expression is as a music educator in K-12 and the collegiate level. I’m grateful this week to have had the opportunity to attend, and to participate in the discussion. I’ve learned from so many people with such a different background than me.
A part of us sings for joy when we receive that card of letter from a former student who tells us that we were the reason they are now an educator themselves, or a professional performer. We all hope to inspire someone the way that others have inspired us along our path.
But a funny thing happens when you think about the folly, almost, of training musicians with that professional endgame in mind. A number of our singers will never go on to be professional in music. Some may not even become proficient! They may find along the way that it didn’t satisfy them as they had thought, or are disgruntled for some other reason. And there are those who will make the honest effort, and simply cannot find employment in the field. If we only direct our passions toward those individuals, just imagine the diminishment in the pool of choral enthusiasts in just a few generations!
Ironically, many, if not most of our students will have had their greatest musical performance by the time they are 22 years old. That’s certainly the case for me. I haven’t done much performing with the New York Philharmonic and the Philadelphia Orchestra since graduating from Westminster Choir College. Go figure.
Westminster was founded on a principle of John Finley Williamson that even volunteer choirs are deserving of a well-trained, professional musician to lead them. And because of this philosophical backbone, I have long believed that church musicians are uniquely positioned to tackle the issues of today’s conversation, the community of singing and the notion that we might “save the world” through singing. There are two reasons that I feel this way:
Firstly, we have been assured by Christ himself that “where two or three are met together” God will be there (Matthew 18:20). What an image! Given that we’re not in this for the accolades, kudos, and applause (although they’re lovely when we get them), this lesson teaches me that if I show up on a Thursday night and, say, a lone alto joins me, my job has been done, because Christ was there among us– It’ll be a terrible rehearsal, don’t get me wrong. And Sunday will be a complete disaster, but my work was done.
The second reason surrounds two words you rarely hear in the church: “audience” and “fan base”. Think for a moment, if you will, about your favorite professional ensemble. For me, it’s the Monteverdi Choir. I’ve listened to their albums for nearly 30 years by now. And you know something? I’ve never once forged a personal relationship with them, never met Sir John Eliot Gardiner, never even seen them live (I came close once, but it could be years again before they return to my region). Even your favorite rock band: unless you intend to go full-deadhead, there’s a strong chance that you may see them, at most, say, five times in your entire lifetime.
I love to attend choral and orchestral concerts at some of the fine music schools here in the greater Boston area, but even those only offer an option to connect in person a few times a semester, at most.
But, as a church musician, every time I lift my arms to conduct, my entire community is there behind me.
Sue Ellen Page, one of my choral mentors at Nassau Presbyterian Church in Princeton, New Jersey, taught me a long time ago that the “congregation is the first choir”. What a way to separate the performers from the servants! We work tirelessly Thursday after Thursday, in snow and sleet, and all that, with perfect attendance on Sundays, and this group of people who simply show up once a week, end up with top billing, above-the-line credit as the “first choir”? Give me a break!
But no, it doesn’t do anything to my ego, because this is my chosen vocation. And it serves as the most striking reminder to me that although the group of singers before me is my flock, and I take seriously my commitment to shepherd them, it is the full congregation to which I have a professional obligation. And by only tending to those who make the music, my contrary-minded peers effectively hold their hands in front of them saying “Stop! You don’t make music! You’re not privileged to enjoy this treasure trove behind the curtain.”
It is the singers, the players, and the listeners and lovers of music who comprise the Beautiful Community of which I have previously spoken extensively. It is my mission to serve all of them.
At Edwards Church, this means I write newsletter articles, speak before particularly meaningful anthems, and teach occasional music appreciation classes on the subjects that matter most to my congregation. Likewise, I try to empower my choir through the use of technology both in the rehearsal room and in the virtual sphere.
It’s been an eight year experiment of sorts to find the ways that speak to my community, and I believe wholeheartedly that by encouraging a love of music in all the members of our congregations, we truly may save the world through singing.