One would think that there's no song the Mormon Tabernacle Choir knows better than the iconic Climb Every Mountain. It is, after all, one of our signature pieces and one that we sing quite often each year. As such, you'd assume that we could just sing that song, on demand, without any (or very little) rehearsing needed.
Nope!
As we rehearsed it Thursday night, the conductor stopped us a total of 25 times (yes, I counted) to fix this or that. Such stops were mostly related to intonation issues and after stop 10, I just kept thinking, "Really, we're that bad at singing this song? How could that be?"
I immediately thought about how this experience related to life in general. Most of us--at least the people who I know--sometimes get into a habit of just "going through the motions". It's like we flip on the "automatic pilot" switch and expect the results to be just as good as the last time we did whatever we're doing--all without much thought or effort. The problem is, by nature, we tend to gravitate to a result that's really only average.
It's only by switching OFF auto-pilot and re-engaging ourselves that we can ascend upwards and obtain a result that's not ordinary, but extraordinary. As our conductors in the choir always say, we need to think! Concentrate on what we're doing and treat every step (or note) as something that deserves our attention and our very best. Then, we will have a product that's truly worth sharing--one that truly taps into, and capitalizes on, our potential.
On another note, the whole reason we were singing Climb Every Mountain Thursday night was not because we were going to perform it anytime soon, but because it was being used as a try-out piece for the individual who was auditioning for the part-time organist position. While those auditions are going on, the Choir has already selected its new full-time organist, Brian Mathias. You can read all about him, HERE. Welcome to the family, Brian!
Lastly, next week we start extra rehearsals for the upcoming Easter Concert (Handel's Messiah). The choir has had a few weeks of no extra rehearsals lately. Which has been nice. But we will now say a fond farewell to those "normal" Sundays and say a hello to the new normal Sundays.
Until next week, God be with you.
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Sunday, January 21, 2018
MTC #212 - Just Play Your Part
One of the challenges of being in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir is being completely focused during rehearsals--and particularly during performances. I'm one of those people who sometimes has a difficult time with this because of what's going on out in the audience. It's not that the audience members are doing anything wrong or being distracting, it's just that I want them to have the best experience possible.
As they walk in, I see them heading towards seats closest to the choir and orchestra--only to be course-corrected by the ushers (who have been instructed to keep the audience in certain sections). I see some who sometimes get past the ushers, get comfortable, and then be told they have to go find another spot. I sometimes see a large number of prime viewing rows on the main floor be blocked off by "reserved" signs and wonder if that makes other people feel less important and frustrated. I see several people who sit alone and it makes me instinctively sad. I want to go sit next to them and give them a personal welcome (though I realize some may prefer isolation or simply be OK with it). I get frustrated when people who have come to watch us rehearse aren't greeted until most of them have actually left already.
And the list goes on.
I have to remember, though, a very important fact of life: we all have a part to play and, to the extent possible, I need to let go of those things I have no control over. It does me absolutely no good to worry about any of the scenarios described above. In fact, said scenarios are a distraction and take away from my own part to play: a focused, unified singer. I should have faith that the ushers can handle the audience (we love you, ushers--you sometimes have a very hard job!), I should let the director decide when it's best to extend a welcome, and I should let individual audience members manage their own musical and spiritual experience. And then after letting go of all of those things, I can do what I've been asked to do, and what I love to do, much more efficiently and effectively.
I suppose there's a life lesson here no matter who you are and what each day entails for you. Play your part, avoid distractions, keep your "eye on the prize", and life will be better. I can promise you it will.
Until next time, God be with you.
As they walk in, I see them heading towards seats closest to the choir and orchestra--only to be course-corrected by the ushers (who have been instructed to keep the audience in certain sections). I see some who sometimes get past the ushers, get comfortable, and then be told they have to go find another spot. I sometimes see a large number of prime viewing rows on the main floor be blocked off by "reserved" signs and wonder if that makes other people feel less important and frustrated. I see several people who sit alone and it makes me instinctively sad. I want to go sit next to them and give them a personal welcome (though I realize some may prefer isolation or simply be OK with it). I get frustrated when people who have come to watch us rehearse aren't greeted until most of them have actually left already.
And the list goes on.
I have to remember, though, a very important fact of life: we all have a part to play and, to the extent possible, I need to let go of those things I have no control over. It does me absolutely no good to worry about any of the scenarios described above. In fact, said scenarios are a distraction and take away from my own part to play: a focused, unified singer. I should have faith that the ushers can handle the audience (we love you, ushers--you sometimes have a very hard job!), I should let the director decide when it's best to extend a welcome, and I should let individual audience members manage their own musical and spiritual experience. And then after letting go of all of those things, I can do what I've been asked to do, and what I love to do, much more efficiently and effectively.
I suppose there's a life lesson here no matter who you are and what each day entails for you. Play your part, avoid distractions, keep your "eye on the prize", and life will be better. I can promise you it will.
Until next time, God be with you.
Sunday, January 14, 2018
MTC #211 - The Choir Religion Temptation
Before getting to the topic at hand, I did want to mention that the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was honored to not only sing at President Monson's funeral on Friday, but to sing President Monson's favorite songs, as well. As there was a lot of coverage of this special event (click HERE and HERE for some good articles), I won't go into too many details myself. Suffice it to say, I was grateful for the opportunity to help honor such a wonderful man who did so much, for so many.
Also, today's Music & the Spoken Word broadcast was titled "The Light and Love of Freedom", honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. and others like him, who emphasized the importance of accepting all people and treasuring the values of love and human rights. I'm grateful to belong to an organization and a church that believes we're all God's children and believes in the importance of loving everyone.
So. . .
I was talking with a friend the other day, who also happens to be a member of the Choir, and the conversation turned to a particular mindset that's been tempting to adopt after being in the Choir during the past four years.
Averaging about 12-15 hrs/week (when you factor in rehearsals, concerts, touring, personal memorizing time, and other events), being a member of the Choir is very time consuming. It rivals a few other time-consuming callings within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, though it differs in what most other callings entail. We don't have meetings, we don't prepare lessons, we don't sit in councils or engage in any sort of traditional teaching. We also don't have the responsibility to minister or administer to specific people, which includes not being included in any sort of accountability reports (aside from general attendance reports) or getting much by way of feedback from those we perform to (though we do get some from time to time).
What we do, do, is sing. This involves working hard to learn the music, trying to become better singers, relying on the fellow singers around you for strength and note cues, throwing out personal cares and worries so we can truly focus, listening intently to our conductor, giving up personal family time (sometimes for weeks at a time during tour), fighting against complacency, and mustering excitement and fresh vigor when singing songs we've sung countless times before (or occasionally singing songs we may not personally like too much).
But through all of this hard work and dedication (and what I say next are my personal thoughts--they may, or may not be, shared or experienced by other Choir members), it becomes very tempting to think of Choir as the only "religion" we need. After all, amidst all of the hours spent, we sing beautiful songs that create outward and inward spiritual experiences. The music and the lyrics settle on our hearts and we sometimes say to ourselves "You know what? I've had a fantastic week with the Choir, we've sang songs that have uplifted and inspired, we've put in the hard work, and I just want to go home and be with my family. Can't choir "count" as my spiritual edification on Sundays? Isn't it enough? I mean, honestly, the thought of going to three more hours of church seems overwhelming."
So we play this back and forth justification game as though we're somehow entitled to lay aside what our Church leaders have counseled, and perhaps trade it for some other activity--like a long Sunday afternoon nap!
Yes, it's easy to fall into this temptation--particularly every other year when my ward meets at 9am and it's impossible to make it because of Choir responsibilities (which necessitates me going to a different ward). And the next year, when my ward meets at 1, and I finally CAN go, it's easy to feel like I'm not even part of that congregational family anyway because you're gone half the time.
And you know, slowly, it really starts to affect my personal spirituality--in ways that are hard to describe.
So, it might have taken me four years, but I'm come to deflect these "choir-is-the-only-spiritual-thing-I-need" temptations and realize how much I've missed my ward. I've missed the good people (even though I don't know some of them because they moved in last year), the lessons (even though I sometimes fall asleep in them), or the sincere handshakes and hugs of fellowship. I've missed sitting with my family and taking the Sacrament with them. And I've missed talking about the Gospel with others and seeing how principles within the Gospel have helped them overcome, be better, find peace, and endure. Do I still have days where I just want to skip Church, call it good, and take a nap? Absolutely! But overall, I'm grateful that my desire to be part of my ward family has been restored. I'm always grateful for my Choir family. They are an integral part of my life and the experiences we have together are one aspect of my spirituality. But they aren't the only part.
Nor should they be.
Until next time, God be with you.
Also, today's Music & the Spoken Word broadcast was titled "The Light and Love of Freedom", honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. and others like him, who emphasized the importance of accepting all people and treasuring the values of love and human rights. I'm grateful to belong to an organization and a church that believes we're all God's children and believes in the importance of loving everyone.
So. . .
I was talking with a friend the other day, who also happens to be a member of the Choir, and the conversation turned to a particular mindset that's been tempting to adopt after being in the Choir during the past four years.
Averaging about 12-15 hrs/week (when you factor in rehearsals, concerts, touring, personal memorizing time, and other events), being a member of the Choir is very time consuming. It rivals a few other time-consuming callings within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, though it differs in what most other callings entail. We don't have meetings, we don't prepare lessons, we don't sit in councils or engage in any sort of traditional teaching. We also don't have the responsibility to minister or administer to specific people, which includes not being included in any sort of accountability reports (aside from general attendance reports) or getting much by way of feedback from those we perform to (though we do get some from time to time).
What we do, do, is sing. This involves working hard to learn the music, trying to become better singers, relying on the fellow singers around you for strength and note cues, throwing out personal cares and worries so we can truly focus, listening intently to our conductor, giving up personal family time (sometimes for weeks at a time during tour), fighting against complacency, and mustering excitement and fresh vigor when singing songs we've sung countless times before (or occasionally singing songs we may not personally like too much).
But through all of this hard work and dedication (and what I say next are my personal thoughts--they may, or may not be, shared or experienced by other Choir members), it becomes very tempting to think of Choir as the only "religion" we need. After all, amidst all of the hours spent, we sing beautiful songs that create outward and inward spiritual experiences. The music and the lyrics settle on our hearts and we sometimes say to ourselves "You know what? I've had a fantastic week with the Choir, we've sang songs that have uplifted and inspired, we've put in the hard work, and I just want to go home and be with my family. Can't choir "count" as my spiritual edification on Sundays? Isn't it enough? I mean, honestly, the thought of going to three more hours of church seems overwhelming."
So we play this back and forth justification game as though we're somehow entitled to lay aside what our Church leaders have counseled, and perhaps trade it for some other activity--like a long Sunday afternoon nap!
Yes, it's easy to fall into this temptation--particularly every other year when my ward meets at 9am and it's impossible to make it because of Choir responsibilities (which necessitates me going to a different ward). And the next year, when my ward meets at 1, and I finally CAN go, it's easy to feel like I'm not even part of that congregational family anyway because you're gone half the time.
And you know, slowly, it really starts to affect my personal spirituality--in ways that are hard to describe.
So, it might have taken me four years, but I'm come to deflect these "choir-is-the-only-spiritual-thing-I-need" temptations and realize how much I've missed my ward. I've missed the good people (even though I don't know some of them because they moved in last year), the lessons (even though I sometimes fall asleep in them), or the sincere handshakes and hugs of fellowship. I've missed sitting with my family and taking the Sacrament with them. And I've missed talking about the Gospel with others and seeing how principles within the Gospel have helped them overcome, be better, find peace, and endure. Do I still have days where I just want to skip Church, call it good, and take a nap? Absolutely! But overall, I'm grateful that my desire to be part of my ward family has been restored. I'm always grateful for my Choir family. They are an integral part of my life and the experiences we have together are one aspect of my spirituality. But they aren't the only part.
Nor should they be.
Until next time, God be with you.
Sunday, January 7, 2018
MTC #210 - Of Prophets and New Starts
Music & the Spoken Word today was centered on Thomas S. Monson--who served as the 16th President and prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, since 2008. I'd invite you to read a tribute to this great man, HERE, and would certainly invite you to listen to today's music, HERE.
President Monson had a great love for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and the songs we sang today were ones that characterized his life and acts of service. The program opened with "Let There Be Light!" followed by "There is Sunshine in My Soul Today". Light and sunshine were what President Monson was all about. He radiated it in his acts of service to others and relied on it to guide him to those in need. "How Excellent Thy Name" was next, and was the core of President Monson's testimony of God the Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ. The organ solo was "All Things Bright and Beautiful", again, summing up this prophet's life of service. The next two songs were ones from the musicals Wizard of Oz ("Somewhere Over the Rainbow"), and Carousel ("You'll Never Walk Alone"). President Monson was a big fan of musicals and those putting together today's program found it only fitting to include two songs from them. As mentioned in the Spoken Word today, "..we say goodbye to Thomas S. Monson with a song that, in some small way, captures this element of his life and ministry: “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”
The choir ended by singing "Redeemer of Israel"--an anthem to what President Monson and Church members everywhere believe:
Redeemer of Israel,
Our only delight,
On whom for a blessing we call,
Our shadow by day
And our pillar by night,
Our King, our Deliv’rer, our all!
You'll be missed, President Monson.
In other news, with the start of the new year came the beginning of an incredible journey for 40 new choir members. We saw them Thursday night at rehearsal, taking a tour of the Tabernacle and being instructed by choir leaders. It was rewarding to see them and their happy countenances. Today they came and sat up in the balcony area closest to the choir seats to do some observing. I'm grateful for them for numerous reasons. First, they remind me of when I first joined and how everything was new, fresh, and exciting. Second, they will bring that fresh perspective and excitement into the choir as soon as they finish Choir School at the end of April. And lastly, I'm grateful for them because they help me remember that time is always moving forward. The choir "cycle" is always spinning with new ones coming in each year, and seasoned ones retiring. I'm somewhere in the middle of that cycle and need to recommit myself to treasuring every minute. In fact, I have a hunch that each of us could treasure life a little more--whether it's our families, our friends, or our multiple daily responsibilities and opportunities (along with their accompanying blessings).
It's certainly one of my goals to do just that.
Until next time, God be with you.
The choir ended by singing "Redeemer of Israel"--an anthem to what President Monson and Church members everywhere believe:
Redeemer of Israel,
Our only delight,
On whom for a blessing we call,
Our shadow by day
And our pillar by night,
Our King, our Deliv’rer, our all!
You'll be missed, President Monson.
In other news, with the start of the new year came the beginning of an incredible journey for 40 new choir members. We saw them Thursday night at rehearsal, taking a tour of the Tabernacle and being instructed by choir leaders. It was rewarding to see them and their happy countenances. Today they came and sat up in the balcony area closest to the choir seats to do some observing. I'm grateful for them for numerous reasons. First, they remind me of when I first joined and how everything was new, fresh, and exciting. Second, they will bring that fresh perspective and excitement into the choir as soon as they finish Choir School at the end of April. And lastly, I'm grateful for them because they help me remember that time is always moving forward. The choir "cycle" is always spinning with new ones coming in each year, and seasoned ones retiring. I'm somewhere in the middle of that cycle and need to recommit myself to treasuring every minute. In fact, I have a hunch that each of us could treasure life a little more--whether it's our families, our friends, or our multiple daily responsibilities and opportunities (along with their accompanying blessings).
It's certainly one of my goals to do just that.
Until next time, God be with you.
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