Worth a Second Listen

The Michael O’Neal Singers and Johns Creek Symphony Orchestra will be joining forces at the end of February for two performances of music  by Ludwig van Beethoven.  The program will consist of the Symphony #3 (Eroica) and the Mass in C Major, two masterpieces from Beethoven’s “middle” period of composition.  Although he had not yet arrived at his ultimate style, as evidenced in works such as Symphony #9 and Missa Solemnis, there can still be heard in the Eroica and Mass a genius in the process of developing his “compositional voice.”   Beethoven managed to pay homage to the greats who preceded him, men such as Haydn and Mozart, by acknowledging the forms and styles of the Classic period, yet at the same time finding ways to push the limits of those forms and styles.

The Mass in C Major was written as a commission for Prince Esterhazy in honor of his wife, Marie Esterhazy.  Beethoven knew as he wrote the Mass in C Major that he was following in the footsteps of Franz Josef Haydn, who had been in the employ of the Esterhazy family for many years and had written several very successful earlier masses for the Princess.  Beethoven recognized that his composition would be compared to those of Haydn, and in fact, the Prince was very disappointed in Beethoven’s work.  Following the first performance on September 13, 1807, the Prince was overhead saying to the composer, “But my dear Beethoven, what is it you have done now?”  The Prince did not hear in Beethoven’s music what he expected and wanted to hear, which would have been something familiar and comfortable.  What Beethoven had done, of course, was listen to his own muse and create a work that was pleasing to himself.  While we listen to the  Mass today and recognize it to be a magnificent piece of music, we hear it with ears “conditioned” not only by Beethoven’s later works, but also by the 200 years of composition that have occurred since its creation.

Perhaps this should be a reminder to all of us to be willing to give music that is new to us a “second listen” before deciding whether we like it or not.  By doing so we open ourselves to many remarkable musical experiences.  Thank goodness Prince Esterhazy was not the final judge on the Mass in C Major! 

I Remember Robert Shaw

Robert Shaw died on Monday, January 25, 1999.  In the thirteen years since his death there have been many wonderful choral performances that have taken place in America.   Still, it is impossible to imagine what these performances would have been like without the influence his choral genius had on generations of choral singers and conductors.  For the second half of the 20th century Shaw’s name was synonymous with choral excellence, and his life and work continue to influence many of us today.  I was fortunate to have the opportunity to sing under his baton for a number of years and was honored to be one of two persons invited to write a reflection on his life for the Atlanta Journal Constitution on January 29, 1999, just days after he died.  I remember writing this homage through a veil of grief, knowing that thousands of others throughout the country, even the world, were feeling the same sense of loss.  Here is what I said:

Dear Mr. Shaw,

It was in the fall of 1973 that I first met you, and I recognize it today as one of the pivotal experiences of my life.  I was auditioning for the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chorus and was thrilled to be meeting you, my idol since age 12.  I recall standing there, a young college instructor just two years out of graduate school, with knees trembling as I heard you softly say after my auditon, “You’re in, and I think I’d like you to come back and audition for the Chamber Chorus as well.”  I don’t think my feet even touched the ground on the way back to my car! Well, the Chamber Chorus audition went fine and even resulted in an invitation to solo in the November performances of Handel’s “Messiah.”  Within several weeks of meeting you, I was standing on the stage of Symphony Hall performing as a soloist under your baton.  I could hardly believe my good fortune.

What transpired during the next ten years of singing for you as both a chorus memeber and a soloist was a succession of musical epiphanies, each one somehow illuminating my life with brightness and clarity.  I remember Florence Kopleff, your alto soloist of choice for several decades, singing ‘Agnus Dei’ from Bach’s “B Minor Mass” and thinking that if I closed my eyes I might be transported to heaven.  I also remember a time when the Chamber Chorus was performing Bach’s “St. Matthew Passion.”  During a section of exquisite beauty, I felt tears cascading down my cheeks.  Somewhat embarrassed at my lack of control, I glanced quickly to my left, only to find my neighbor also in tears.  A quick look to my right found that singer in a similar condition.  You had led us to a place indescribable in its poignancy.  I remember your spoken and written words, which helped us understand that we were part of something much larger than ourselves.  I remember you saying that God was not pleased with wrong notes and that things would go much more smoothly if we would just go ahead and sing what the composer had requested.  You were right.

As you know, you were often praised for your sensitivity to humankind and for your thoughtful reflections on our relationship to God and God’s relationship to us.  At the same time, you were criticized for your sometimes callous treatment of individuals, a seemingly contradictory behavior considering your affection for us as a group.  I recall a conversation you and I had shortly after one of those blistering attacks on a chorus member, an attack I considered unjustified.  We were in one of our ‘friendly periods,’ and since I had recently performed as a soloist in an ASO subscription concert, I felt qualified to help you learn something about interpersonal communication.  (You must remember, I was much younger then!) I approached you and said, “You know, Mr. Shaw, you have such an affection for humankind; it’s a shame you don’t like people very much.”  I awaited your response with a bit of trepidation, but you laughed your tremendous, hearty laugh, slapped me on the back and said, “You may be right, Mike.  It takes a lot of effort to be nice.”

Well, you were very generous to me that day, and I want to thank you for being kind, the very quality I had just suggested you did not possess.  It’s true, you didn’t always choose the most socially acceptable way to show you cared about people.  However, you showed it in more profound ways.  For example, you opened my eyes, ears, heart and mind (and those of many others) to the truth and beauty of choral music.  And you taught me, by example, to never give less than my all – that this art of making music deserves, even demands, our total effort.  Oh yes, you cared deeply for all of us, individually and collectively.  I was just unable to understand it then.

It is difficult for me to imagine now a world without your presence – leading, correcting, encouraging and chastising.  But you are still with us and will continue to be, as long as we have your recorded performances of more than 50 years from which to learn, and as long as we have singers and conductors who try to pass on what they have learned from you.  So, thank you, Mr. Shaw.  You have enriched my life in ways I can never begin to express, and I will be grateful to you every time I study a score, lift a baton or open my mouth to sing.

Rest softly, Mr. Shaw.  Softly rest.

Martin Luther King, Jr. and Ludwig van Beethoven

Martin Luther King, Jr. would have been 83 today, January 15, 2012, had he not been struck down by a sniper’s bullet on April 4, 1968.  He was only 39, but consider what he was able to accomplish in those few years.  Our nation was shown a better way to live and treat others through his words and actions.  As younger generations, both black and white, learn of this “larger than life” figure only through recorded historical accounts or the ever decreasing first hand accounts of persons who knew him, I can only hope we will continue to honor him as one of the greatest persons of the 20th Century.  While a national holiday exists to commemorate his life, it would be unfortunate if it became nothing more than just another “day off” for the majority of Americans.

I have always believed one of the best ways to honor Dr. King on his special day is to do something of value in his memory.  For that reason, MOS regularly rehearses on MLK Day each year.   Always at this particular rehearsal I am reminded how important it is for us to learn and perform music that moves us to a higher plain.  We are fortunate this year to be doing that with Beethoven’s Mass in C Major.  There is even a “King-Beethoven” connection in one of MLK’s quotes.  King uses Beethoven’s music as an example of something being done at the very highest level, and he reminds us in his statement of the importance of doing anything we do to the best of our ability.  Here’s the quote:

If a man is called to be a streetsweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great streetsweeper who did his job well.

The world is a better place because of individuals like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Ludwig van Beethoven.   Our lives are made richer because they lived.

Redemptive and Life-Affirming Music

I just listened to an interview with Bobby McFerrin conducted by Krista Tippett on her American Public Media broadcast entitled On Being. Krista talks with a wide variety of people on subjects of faith, religion, and spirituality. In the past I’ve listened to fascinating discussions with persons like the Dalai Lama, Bible scholar Walter Brueggemann, and Wangari Maathai, the first African woman to win a Nobel Peace Prize. I had especially looked forward to Bobby McFerrin’s interview, for I have been a fan of this amazing musician for a long time, and I must say I was not disappointed. McFerrin’s mastery of his singing voice, combined with his phenomenal improvisatory skills, have resulted in many engaging musical moments for audiences throughout the world and it was fascinating to hear his take on a number of subjects.

I was particularly struck by McFerrin’s comment that the music we listen to should be “redemptive and life-affirming.” He went on to lament the degrading and cynical subject matter of much of the music listened to by young people today and suggested that since music has such a power to influence we should be careful what we listen to and perform. It made me think about the music we’ve just begun rehearsing in The Michael O’Neal Singers. Beethoven’s Mass in C Major, Op. 86, will be performed with the Johns Creek Symphony Orchestra at the end of February. This rarely performed piece is truly an inspiring work of art. Written more than a decade after Beethoven had begun to lose his hearing, and five years after his profoundly moving epistle, the Heiligenstadt Testament, the Mass shows a composer already pushing the limits of accepted musical style and exploring expanded interpretations of a centuries old text. I am thankful that this masterpiece which came from Beethovens head, heart and soul over two hundred years ago still has the ability to be “redemptive and life-affirming” to those of us who peform or hear it today.