Martín Palmeri's Misa Tango

Chicago Chorale’s big project this winter is learning and presenting Misa a Buenos Aires,  also called Misa Tango. Argentine composer Martín Palmeri  (b.1965) composed the work between September 1995 and April 1996; the first performance was given on August 17, 1996 at Teatro Broadway in Buenos Aires by the Orquesta Sinfonica Nacional de Cuba, the Choir of the Law Faculty of the University of Buenos Aires, and the Polyphonic Choir of the City of Vicente López (choirs to which the work is dedicated).

Misa Tango is a Latin choral mass utilizing the harmonies, syncopated rhythms, and sensual qualities of tango, the national music and dance of Argentina. Structurally, Misa Tango consists of the same movements as the traditional Latin mass— Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus/Benedictus, and Agnus Dei. But the composer introduces the emblematic instrument of tango, the bandoneon, along with a string orchestra (violins, viola, cello and double bass) and piano. A mezzo-soprano solo part punctuates the work, the bulk of which is sung by a mixed choir.

Palmeri’s Misa was relatively unknown until 2013, when it was performed in Rome, at the Church of St. Ignatius of Loyola, during the International Festival of Music and Sacred Art in the Vatican. The organizers chose Misa Tango specifically to pay tribute to the elevation of the former cardinal of Buenos Aires, Jorge Mario Bergoglio, who became Pope Francis in 2013. The composer writes, ”This work was written with the intention of offering my choirs a choral symphonic work that could bring us closer to the tango repertoire. Indeed, working with my choirs, I have found how difficult and complex the interpretation of traditional tangos by choirs is. This work is therefore a tribute to choirs and tango as well as to its creators. But it is also the result of a spontaneous production, the fruit of my experience as a choir director, pianist and tango arranger.”

The seeds of tango originated in present-day Angola, in Southwest Africa; they were taken to South America during the 17th and 18th centuries by people who had been sold as slaves, mainly by Portuguese slave traders. The same people who practiced “Candombe”, the musical-religious dance expression that became an essential component in the genesis of Argentine tango, colonized Brazil, Cuba, and the Río de la Plata region of Argentina.  Over time, elements of music and dance from Europe, especially Italy, Spain, and Portugal, as well as from the native indigenous peoples, fused with this African music, particularly in the lower-class districts of Buenos Aires and Montevideo. The tango as we know it today evolved about 1880 in dance halls and perhaps brothels in Buenos Aires, where it initially had a disreputable reputation, as a crude,  socially unsettling, sexually suggestive expression of the lower classes. By the early 1900s, however, the tango had become socially acceptable, and moved back across the Atlantic Ocean; by the outbreak of WWI, it was a craze in fashionable, upper-class European circles. The first tango music by known composers was published in 1910.

Beginning in the 1950s, composers and dancers of tango began experimenting with new styles, harmonic practices, and instrumentation.  Most important among these musicians was Astor Piazzolla (1933-92), who incorporated elements from jazz and classical music in his compositions, shattering the glass ceiling that had been forcing tango into a tighter, more stylized, less creative and improvisatory mode, both musically and in terms of dance performance.  With the support and collaboration of other tango musicians, Piazzolla brought the art of tango music to the forefront, opening the door for, among others, Martín Palmeri, to incorporate the special and unique elements of tango into other genres.

Chorale is having a fabulous time working on Misa Tango.  We have never attempted anything like this before, and we find the challenge exhilarating and rewarding.  This is immensely attractive music;  but more than that, it bridges the gap between “popular” music and “classical” music without drawing attention to the gap.  Palmeri has accomplished a wonderful thing.

Reflections on our 2022-23 season

Martín Palmeri

The Advent-Christmas season is a major hot spot on Chicago Chorale’s calendar.  Summer is generally relaxed and devoted to family activities and vacations; but by September the days shorten,  the weather turns colder, students return to school, and workplaces turn up the pressure.  And choirs, which have largely been on hiatus over the summer, begin rehearsing.  Beginning in September, Chorale devotes about ten weeks to preparing a program;  and the culmination of those ten weeks places us squarely in the middle of the much-needed holiday season.  The covid pandemic wreaked havoc with much of what performers and audiences take for granted,  but it did not do away with this basic calendar: the Christmas break still happens, and we still observe it with music.  Singers and listeners are cautious about infection being passed in the close quarters that characterize live performance, but this caution doesn’t keep them away;  Chorale’s numbers are back almost to pre-pandemic levels, and audiences for our Christmas concerts were the largest we have ever enjoyed for these annual events, in these venues.

Chorale’s Christmas repertoire consisted of numerous smaller pieces, from many traditions, in several languages, composed any time between the sixteenth century and the present. The seasonal theme determines the repertoire, chosen and organized with the goal of creating a unified arc, much as a composer plans the movements of a major work to create a single, satisfying experience.

The remaining concerts of our 2022-23 season are organized very differently.  The first, to be presented March 25-26, is a single work, Misa a Buenos Aires, or Misatango, by Martín Palmeri, premiered in 1996.  A setting of the ordinary of the Roman Catholic Mass, the five- movement work is composed in the tango nuevo style developed and popularized by Astor Piazzola (1921-1992).  The genre, with the characteristic tango orchestra of piano, bandoneon, bass, and strings, has proved to be very popular with Chicago audiences, though the only local performance of this particular work was back in 2017, in Naperville.  An exhaustive search of the Chicago region did not turn up a qualified bandeon player, so we are bringing in Charles Gorczynski, an expert in this field;  we are also bringing in Argentinian mezzo soprano Raquel Winnica as soloist, who understands the idiom and can project the music and text authentically. As is true whenever we step outside of our customary a cappella idiom, this concert will cost us a lot of money to produce, necessitating energetic fund-raising on our part. But, as always, Chorale is committed to doing justice to this brilliant, colorful, attractive work. Our major challenge is to attract you, our audience, to come and hear it!  This isn’t the sort of music you are accustomed to expecting from us;  but I promise you a first-rate performance, and I’m confident you will love it.

Our third set of concerts, scheduled for June 10-11, is organized in another way entirely.  We plan a program of British choral music beginning with the such foundational composers as William Byrd and Henry Purcell, before reaching into the 20th and 21st centuries to explore contemporary takes on this celebrated tradition, by such non-traditional composers as Kerensa Briggs, Judith Weir, and Roderick Williams.  In addition to presenting these shorter motets, Chorale will sing Herbert Howells' Requiem, a perennial favorite with singers and audiences alike.

An ambitious season, staking out new territory for us.  Would you expect anything less of Chicago Chorale?

Singing in Icelandic

My search for new and interesting Advent Christmas music, last summer, yielded a lovely carol from Iceland:  Immanuel oss í nátt, which first appeared in a collection of songs, Hymnodia Sacra, in 1742.  Both text and melody are thought to be the work of Gudmundur Högnason;  we are singing an arrangement for SATB choir by contemporary Icelandic composer Thorkell Sigurbjörnsson.  Neither I nor any member of the Chorale entered this project with any experience with the Icelandic language;  and the pronunciation guide included with the music, while helpful as far as it goes, is general and simplified, omitting much of what makes the language interesting and challenging.

We found a couple of recordings on Youtube, one by a professional Swedish choir, the other by an amateur Icelandic choir.  The latter is very clear and precise;  the former is very beautiful, but lacks the linguistic precision we as Americans need to have modeled for us. Using both of them proved to be the best thing.  Our accompanist, Kit Bridges, who has taught singers’ diction at DePaul University for many years, was able to come up with a detailed IPA version of the text, which he taught to the singers sound by sound, word by word.  And finally, Slava Gorbachov, a linguist who has been an enormous help to us over the years in learning Church Slavonic, and who has done work in Old Icelandic, came to one of our rehearsals and helped us refine some particularly troublesome vowels.  He also pointed us toward some particularly good demonstrations and explanations of the language on YouTube.  It turns out Icelandic is known to be a knotty language, presenting challenges that don’t exist in the other Scandinavian languages and requiring lots of  drilling.

Why bother?  The “singing translation” included in our music would suffice, and make the carol easily accessible to our listeners.  Learning the Icelandic has taken an inordinate amount of time away from rehearsing other music, as well as a good deal of at-home drilling and repetition.

We do this because that is how Chorale rolls.  The challenge energizes us. Our singers understand and are intrigued by this work, and aren’t afraid of it.  Working in numerous languages makes us citizens of the world. And we know that vocal music is special, set apart from purely instrumental music, because of the words, which, in good repertoire, are as important as the music, and inform the decisions made by the composer and the performers.  This marriage of words and notes is what grabs us and makes us singers.  Undertaking the challenge of learning Icelandic is what makes us Chorale.

Repertoire for the Advent/Christmas Season, Part 2

Continuing last week’s discussion, about programming music only tangentially related to the Advent/Christmas season:  we will sing The Deer’s Cry by Arvo Pärt on our coming concerts.  Of all the modern composers whose output is included under the rubric “Holy Minimalism,” he intrigues me the most.  Chorale has sung many of his pieces, from throughout his career, and I have wanted to add this one (composed in 2007) since I first became aware of it. It looks straightforward when first encountered;  but Pärt orders his materials in a transformative way that eludes description.  The more we work on the piece, the more profound, and difficult, it becomes.

Pärt begins with the familiar “St. Patrick’s Breastplate” prayer of protection, or “lorica,” thought to have originated in the early eighth century, and traditionally attributed to St. Patrick.  The original prayer has ten verses;  Pärt sets only two of them.  In modern English, they read:

8. Christ with me, Christ before me,
Christ behind me, Christ within me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ at my right, Christ at my left,

9. Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks to me,
Christ in the eye of every man that sees me,
Christ in the ear of every man that hears me.

The prayer's title is given as Faeth Fiada in the 11th-century Liber Hymnorum that records the text. This has been translated as “The Deer's Cry" by Middle Irish popular etymology, but it is more likely a term for a "spell of concealment."  A later version of the Liber Hymnorum (1898) describes the prayer like this:

Saint Patrick sang this when an ambush was laid against his coming by Loegaire, that he might not go to Tara to sow the faith. And then it appeared before those lying in ambush that they (Saint Patrick and his monks) were wild deer with a fawn following them.

I imagine Pärt banking on the familiarity of the text in its well-known Anglican version, when he composed his setting of the text (in English).  His listeners would expect the upbeat, uncomplicated melody to which they were accustomed.  What a surprise, instead, to hear a dark, foreboding exposition of the text, with many moments of silence and a furtive, secretive, endangered quality, eerily mirroring the Liber’s description.  This setting pictures the endangered Christ of the flight to Egypt, rather than a triumphant king—and by extension, a frightening, threatening world,  in which it is an act of profound faith to trust in the words of the prayer.

Most of the composers on our program picture the savior of the world as small, weak, and vulnerable. Pärt succeeds through his setting in suggesting that the subjects of the prayer, the ones doing the praying, embody that vulnerability. Like Bach, he is both composer and theologian.

Repertoire for the Advent/Christmas Season

Were I to catalogue the many entries I have written for this blog over the past fifteen years, I am certain I would find that the majority of them concern repertoire.  The beauty and emotional power of what composers have written down for us has always been paramount in my own approach to performance, whether singing or conducting: I have wanted to sing well, to understand and pronounce languages well, to conduct well, in order to give authentic life to what composers give us. Proper conducting patterns, beauty of vocal production, singing higher and louder and faster, and many other aspects of the vocal art, have been supports, rather than points of arrival, in my quest to express the composers’ intent.

So my first order of business is, always, selecting a concert’s repertoire.  And this is problematic in selecting music for the Advent and Christmas season.  There are competing concerns to be addressed.  On the one hand, we acknowledge the explicitly Christian nature of these holidays, with the darker music and texts of Advent, as well as the joyful music of Christmas itself, sometimes grand and majestic, sometimes warm and intimate. This religiously-oriented music can be austere, demanding, thought-provoking, nudging Chorale in a direction which excludes some of our constituency.  On the other hand, we acknowledge the universal celebration of the passage from dark to light, Yuletide, celebrated with good food and drink, gifts and sometimes excessive merriment, and colored with nostalgia for home, family, and the past. We want all singers and listeners to feel welcome in our audiences, too, not just musically sophisticated Christians.  And I want to design a program that is balanced and satisfying, as well as a little surprising.

The net I spread in my search for Christmas music is fairly broad and forgiving.  If I sense anything even remotely Christmasy in a text, I call it fair game.  This has been particularly true in the current season— repertoire I am hungry to program, after the hiatus caused by the pandemic, I am just shoe-horning it into our program.  Most significant along these lines, this year, is our inclusion of three movements from J.S.Bach’s Mass in B minor.  Chorale was one week out from a performance of the St. John Passion when things closed down in March 2021, and I have been mourning that loss ever since.  Nothing from that particular work would fit into a Christmas concert; so I turned to another of Bach’s Big Three for texts suited to the season:   Glory to God in the highest/ and on earth peace to men of good will seemed made to order, as did Give us peace. This is music of the highest possible value and impact;  I’m thrilled we are able to include it in this concert.  I only wish we could do the entire Mass!

Another piece we are singing which might raise eyebrows on a Christmas concert:  the Ave Maria from Act II, scene 2, of Francis Poulenc’s opera, Dialogues of the Carmelites.  Originally set for a women’s chorus in the opera, accompanied by orchestra, we are performing it with the orchestral parts sung by the tenors and basses.  The opera’s plot, based upon the execution by guillotine of a group of Carmelite nuns during the French Revolution, is hardly Christmasy in nature;  but the Ave Maria text, said or sung at many points in Roman Catholic liturgical practice,  is associated particularly with the Vespers for the 4th Sunday in Advent.  Poulenc’s setting is exquisitely beautiful and haunting, worthy of standing on its own as one of his most affecting choral compositions.   

I’ll write more about the repertoire for our coming concert next week.

Chicago Chorale Reflects on 20 Years: Kirsten Mallik

This year Chicago Chorale celebrates its 20th Anniversary. In honor of this momentous occasion, some of our singers have agreed to share their experience of singing with Chorale. The final piece in this series is a reflection by member Kirsten Mallik who has been with the group since 2004:

It’s not hard to understand why people sing. Singing is fundamentally human, joyous, and fun. No one asks why we sing at birthdays, do karaoke, or go Christmas caroling. A much more interesting question is, “why do you sing with a choir?” Because then you are also asking, “why do you devote so many unpaid hours each week to singing? Why do you leave your family behind, turn down invitations or leave work early - all to travel to a rehearsal, mark up sheet music and practice saying your consonants and vowels together?”

This is a more powerful question, because it gets to one many of us have been freshly pondering these past pandemic years: how should we spend the very precious time we are given on earth? Especially given that tomorrow is not promised to any of us?

I come from a singing family, I was always singing somewhere. But it was in my high school choir where I first experienced that feeling of forming an artistic unit with others, creating something extraordinary together that none of us could ever have done on our own. I vividly felt we had unlocked something, opened a valve, completed a circuit; I could feel a current of inexpressible things running through my limbs. It’s a feeling all choral singers know. I was hooked, and I dove deeper, singing in choirs all through college.

How could you not want that feeling? How could you not need it?

After graduation, it was hard to imagine the rhythms of adulthood. I had a good job and an apartment, but what about everything else I had always done? Does everything need to be a job, now? I was no professional musician - did I have to give up my connection to cosmic things? That I could no longer be part of putting beauty into the world?

Luck (and some well-placed posters) led me to Chicago Chorale - a unicorn of a group of skilled musicians who were not professionals, but still devoted artists. They were funny, extraordinary humans - and 18 years later still are, no matter how the roster has shifted. Choral music brings in and binds singers together. We keep each other connected to the unknowable things.

Over the last 18 years, life has filled steadily with other obligations and relationships, but I make the choice every week to leave them behind and head to rehearsal. And that’s because choir is not just an extracurricular, a holdover from school - it’s a good and valuable way to spend time on this earth. It is a group of unique individuals all working together, creating something of great and inspiring beauty to share with others. What finer pursuit is there? What better way to spend any time granted us?

Happy 20th Anniversary, Chicago Chorale - may we all work together to keep your beauty in the world, for all of our sakes. The life AND the world I want, is one with you in it.

Chicago Chorale Reflects on 20 Years: Sophie Littleton

This year Chicago Chorale celebrates its 20th Anniversary. In honor of this momentous occasion, some of our singers have agreed to share their experience of singing with Chorale. This is a reflection by member Sophie Littleton, who has been with the group for 20 years:

Early in April, when I was asked if I would write a reflection on my years singing with Chicago Chorale, I did not know that I was being given an opportunity to honor my mother. But, during the first 2 weeks in April, at the age of 95, she went from home to hospital to hospice, and now on to whatever that next state is. It is a state that we often sing about in sacred music.

My mother was English and was raised in the Anglican church. Naturally, when she came to the United States and began to raise her family she put her children in the choir at the local Episcopalian church. I’ve now sung in choirs almost continuously from the age of 6. I sang in choirs at the University of Chicago, in the Grant Park Chorus, and other groups around the city. I met our Artistic Director, Bruce Tammen, while singing in a small chanting service. Bruce introduced me to so many opportunities: Motet Choir, Collegium Musicum, and a group singing Medieval chant and performing liturgical drama. But when I moved from Hyde Park to the suburbs I stopped singing. I was busy with family life, a new neighborhood, and earning a degree. Then, just as I was beginning to realize how deeply I missed it, I learned Bruce was starting up Chicago Chorale, and I auditioned. That was 20 years ago.

Singing is a practice. We do it regularly, with attention – attention to something we can’t really see or touch. It’s mysterious. It all comes down to the breath in our body. Other practices have come later in life, like meditation and yoga, and psychotherapy. They too, all come down to the breath in our bodies; that mysterious thing which left my mother two weeks ago.

Sacred music is a literature across so many centuries and in so many languages, all to express something we can’t really see or touch.  When we sing sacred works these are the words that are in our mouths and on our tongues.  They have been on my tongue for so many years, over and over.  Sometimes I believe them, and sometimes I don’t.  But they have always been on my tongue and in my mouth. Like a practice.

Each concert season, during preparation, or in performance, there comes a sort of timeless moment. I become newly aware of what I am doing, of what is happening. It is a sort of union of breath and body, intention and word, and all of our individuality falls away in the sound. Such a moment can be breath-taking. Yet at that moment, I need all the breath I can get!

For our upcoming concert we are working on a piece, “God is Seen”. The text arouses strong memories for me. “Search hills and valleys through, There He’s found”. It reminds me of moments when this greater awareness has come to me in the natural world, say, working in the garden when the wind comes up. We all have such moments, but it is easy to lose them through inattention. When we sing we join with others across the ages - composers, poets, musicians, and audiences - all striving to bring attention to what is vital; that thing that we know, but cannot quite see or touch.

Chicago Chorale Reflects on 20 Years: Bruce Tammen

Artistic Director Bruce Tammen, Memory Eternal, Hyde Park Union Church, March 27, 2022. Photo by Janice Marin and Carbon Table Photography.

Chicago Chorale will conclude its twentieth year with a pair of anniversary concerts on June 11 and 12.  Twenty-two of us gathered for our first-ever rehearsal in October, 2001; our first public performance took place in December of that year.

Many singers have joined and left our ranks during the ensuing years. We have served as a musical home away from home for students and faculty of the University of Chicago; DePaul, Northwestern, and Roosevelt universities;  public and private school teachers; doctors, nurses, lawyers, psychologists, therapists, and computer engineers; piano technicians, real estate agents, photographers; mothers, fathers, and grandparents. Many a couple, some of them with children of their own now, met during our rehearsals.

Our repertoire list is immense, from major works by Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Duruflé, Fauré, Mahler, Mozart, and Vaughan Williams, to Renaissance masses and motets by Tallis, Byrd, Palestrina, Victoria, and Lassus, and Weelkes; modern Scandinavian and Baltic works by Grieg, Nysetdt, Eriksson, Ešenvalds, Dubra, Gjeilo, Miskinis, Pärt, Sandström;  American music by Samuel Barber, Jerome Kern, Morten Lauridsen, Alice Parker, Stephen Paulus, Vincent Persichetti, Randall Thompson, Josef Weisgal;  more Russian liturgical music than you can shake a stick at;  and as much Bruckner as we could make time for.  The list goes on.

We have been ambitious.  We started out with two concert preparations per season, each concert performed once; that soon expanded to three preparations, performed twice, often with a supplementary summer preparation and performance with the CSO at the Ravinia Festival.  We have performed with Chicago Civic Orchestra and with the Symphony of Oak Park and River Forest.  We have performed several live programs on WFMT (our next is May 23!), we have produced six CDs, are winding up preparations for our third European tour, and have survived a pandemic.

It often feels like too much, that we are exceeding the group’s capacity. Some of our members get run off their feet. But our mission remains alive and vibrant:  to present thoughtful, well-prepared performances of good music.  In a world dominated by media, by calculated professionalism, by manipulated recordings, by an elite subculture that seems to do all the performing, while most of us just listen and pay, Chorale offers real people the challenge and opportunity to grapple with great music, great composers, and great repertoire, on a personal, sometimes painful, but always stimulating and transformative level.  We meet composers and their dreams and visions, head-on.  And we share what we experience with a like-minded community, singers and listeners both, people moved and inspired by live performance. 

If you don't know us, you should.  We are a vital part of your community.  Please join us for our celebratory events in the coming weeks: our WFMT broadcast on May 23; our gala on May 25, hosted by WFMT’s Lisa Flynn; our in-person, local reunion on May 31; and our concerts in June.  We want you to become a part of our family.

Chicago Chorale Reflects on 20 Years: Jacob Karaca

This year Chicago Chorale celebrates its 20th Anniversary. In honor of this momentous occasion, some of our singers have agreed to share their experience of singing with the Chicago Chorale. This is a reflection by Chicago Chorale member Jacob Karaca:

Chicago Chorale has saved me, many times over, and continues to do so. I don’t just mean in the obvious ways – musical beauty, being part of a millennia-long tradition of musical excellence, bonding with a tribe of like-minded individuals, or being fortunate enough to add to the beauty of the world. Chorale has given me personal purpose and space to continually heal my body and spirit from the hurts of everyday life and complex trauma, by activating those parts of me that provide me calmness and grounding, of connection and compassion, of joy.

I have sung with Chorale since December of 2004, after having run into my old college choir director Bruce in a courthouse elevator. I was there as a matter of course as a part of my job as an attorney, and he was there for the adoption proceedings for his oldest son. I had lost contact with him, and the choral tradition I so relied upon in college at the University of Chicago. But he invited me to audition for Chicago Chorale, and I have been singing with him ever since.

I have always known that preparing and performing the greatest choral works from Palestrina and Tallis to Bach to Beethoven to Mahler to Rachmaninoff to Martin and to Talbot, had centered me and given me purpose beyond my daily life. Singing has given me focus for my musical inclination. Singing has given me space to regularly find time and place outside myself and outside everyday demands on my attention and energy. Singing has given me space to become more in touch with myself, working towards a common goal of beauty and inspiration.

It wasn’t until recently, though, in my own struggles with addiction and trauma healing, that I’ve become aware of the biological and spiritual causes of these benefits.

Most of us are at least vaguely aware of the mystic traditions of group singing. Traditions of ancient chant from across the globe point to a common spiritual reality for the human condition. From Buddhist traditions of “nam myoho renge kyo” to western chant to community healing ceremonies in tribal cultures everywhere, singing together has been a constant way for people to heal and to come together and to find higher meaning.

More biologically, singing activates the vagus nerve system, a group of nerves and braincells that control breathing, heart rate, and connection to others. Singing activates those parts of us that take us out of the nervous system’s activation in shame, of disconnection, of anxiety and depression.  Activation of the vagus nerve moderates our overactivations to stressful stimuli. Singing heals us.

And it heals me, every day.

Not only has Chicago Chorale given my somewhat elitist musical upbringing a mentally satisfying outlet for my inclinations, but it also provides me the space to reorient my body towards a centered calm, bringing me mentally up when I need it, and bringing me down when I need that.

Ever since that day in the courtroom elevator, singing with Bruce and Chicago Chorale has helped me survive and moderate job loss, divorce, recovery, and everyday struggle. The art of producing our sublime repertoire, over the years, has given me solace and peace, as well as an inimitable tribe, community, fellowship and sangha.

Chicago Chorale Reflects on 20 Years: Jana French

This year Chicago Chorale celebrates its 20th Anniversary. In honor of this momentous occasion, some of our singers have agreed to share their experience of singing with the Chicago Chorale. This is a reflection by Chicago Chorale member Jana French:

I joined Chorale 20 years ago and recently came back after a three-year hiatus. Much has changed. There are new names and faces to learn (alas, masks don’t help), a few new traditions (Zoom galas!), and many beautiful new voices. Meanwhile, a number of longtime members have moved away or left the choir to focus on work and family during the pandemic. I miss their voices and the camaraderie that develops after years of singing together.

While the changes are bittersweet, it’s good to be back and singing challenging repertoire with the discipline and artistry that Artistic Director Bruce Tammen insists on. I’m grateful, as well, to rejoin such a committed group of musicians. As Bruce reminds us, Chorale is an ensemble of singers with various levels of training and natural talent. Some have performance degrees and sing professionally in other contexts. Most of us earn our living in non-musical fields. What makes us a choir is everyone’s willingness to check their egos at the door and let him shape our collective sound.

For this concert cycle, we are reprising beloved, shorter pieces by Rachmaninoff, Chesnokov, and Gretchaninoff as well as tackling Alexander Kastalsky’s major a capella work, Memory Eternal to the Fallen Heroes. Kastalsky’s piece was written to commemorate soldiers killed in the First World War and is rarely performed. As the aggression, displacement, and loss of life continues in Ukraine, it serves as a timely reminder of the real human cost of war. More broadly, as a requiem, it invites us to remember loved ones lost during the past two years, when live music and opportunities to grieve in community were both put on hold.

The weekend of March 26-27, I will be thinking of two people in particular who shaped me as a singer, but won’t be in the audience this time: my mother-in-law, Elizabeth Gotsch, who died in July of 2020, and my voice teacher, Walter Kirchner, who died in January this year. Elizabeth was one of Chorale’s most ardent supporters and careful listeners. She came to every concert and, as a choir director herself, offered detailed (and mostly glowing) feedback about our blend and diction. Walter was more of an opera buff, but no one loved the human voice more than he. While he didn’t give two figs about vocal blend, he did teach me that singing is about vulnerability and communication. Maybe that’s true about all art.

Advance tickets for Memory Eternal and the 20th Anniversary Concert can be purchased here.

Chicago Chorale Reflects on 20 Years: Peter Olson

This year Chicago Chorale celebrates its 20th Anniversary. In honor of this momentous occasion, some of our singers have agreed to share their experience of singing with the Chicago Chorale. This is a reflection by Peter Olson, who has been singing with the group for almost 20 years:

I attended one of the first performances of Chicago Chorale at a church in Bridgeport over 20 years ago and knew then that I wanted to sing with this group. I had sung for Artistic Director Bruce Tammen previously at the University of Chicago and was glad to see him come back to Chicago. I was living in Naperville at the time and was singing in Rockefeller Chapel Choir, so I was already driving to Hyde Park twice a week. Adding another rehearsal in Hyde Park each week put a lot of miles on my car that year -- so much so that the Illinois IPASS wanted to know what I was doing!

There is so much that makes Chorale special. I find that Bruce's passion for good music, his command of language and aural imagery, and his dedication toward building community, make Chorale a place to grow as a performer and person. The Chicago Chorale model of volunteer singers allows us additional preparation time to build nuance and really get familiar with the music. Professional choirs that I have sung with may only have one or two rehearsals to prepare a major work. In Chorale it is a luxury to be able to hear and sing such wonderful music over time and build a deep understanding of it. For me, the opportunity to participate in something bigger than myself is a really profound part of what makes this choir work. We are more than the sum of our individual parts. My attendance counts. My contribution to the overall sound of the choir counts. But it is not all about me. I am just one of many.

I am grateful for the friends I have made through Chorale and for the experiences we have had during performances and choir tours. I met my wife Mary Bellmar (Alto) through Chorale. We moved to Oak Park, so getting to Hyde Park for rehearsal is many fewer miles on our car! Mary and I helped build a snack tradition to make our rehearsal breaks more communal and fun. The pandemic unfortunately curtailed that particular tradition, but I look forward to bringing it back again soon.

I am glad we are singing music for Memory Eternal that remembers and memorializes those who died in the Great War. I hope that through our efforts we can provide at least a small measure of comfort to those who are mourning the loss of life and home in Ukraine.

Advance tickets for Memory Eternal and the 20th Anniversary Concert can be purchased here.

Memory Eternal to the Fallen Heroes

Chorale’s winter project is Alexander Kastalsky’s Memory Eternal to the Fallen Heroes (Selected Hymns from the Requiem), which was completed and published in Moscow in 1917.  Kastalsky (1856-1926) was the director of the Moscow Synodical School of Church Singing, and a leader of the new, Neo-Russian stylistic movement in Russian Orthodox choral church composition. 

Kastalsky mentored a group of younger composers which included Sergei Rachmaninoff, Viktor Kalinnikov,  Alexander Gretchaninoff, and Pavel Chesnokov. This neo-Russian movement, which also expressed itself in Russian instrumental music beginning in the late nineteenth century, sought to eliminate western European influence from the church’s music, and to replace it with melodic and harmonic materials from older, ethnically Slavic sources. From a choral music perspective, this movement was one of the most exciting things that happened in our field in the twentieth century. The resulting music is passionate, exciting to sing, beautiful and unusual. Kastalsky’s music in particular is strikingly original and daring in its use of ancient chant materials, and served as a model for Rachmaninoff’s All-Night Vigil, which is the acknowledged masterpiece of the genre. The movement came to an abrupt halt with the Communist revolution and takeover beginning in 1918.  Composition and performance of church music were forbidden. Kastalsky, already an older man, devoted the rest of his career to studying folksongs and composing music based upon them;  most of his younger colleagues left Russia, and were unable to continue in the same creative, energetic vein, separated from their church and their culture.  

In response to the events of World War I, Kastalsky decided to compose, in this new style, a large-scale requiem, a “fraternal service of remembrance for soldiers who have fallen for the common cause.”  He began work in the summer of 1914, intending to combine elements of the Roman Catholic Requiem Mass, its Anglican counterpart, and the Russian Orthodox Memorial Service (Panihida).  By the end of 1915, he had twelve movements sketched out for chorus and orchestra.  But work stalled, for a number of reasons, and ultimately the final, seventeen-movement concert version of his work was not performed.  

Undaunted, Kastalsky created an a cappella version which included eleven of the movements, suitable for concert performance and for liturgical use in Orthodox churches.  This version includes petitions for a bass deacon, but it is clear Kastalsky did not envision including these petitions in concert performance.  Some productions today do include the deacon, singing these petitions; this makes for a longer, more complete concert experience. Chorale’s performance will follow Kastalsky’s instructions and fill out the concert with three related motets composed by Kastalsky’s followers.   

This unaccompanied version was not performed in Russia at the time of its composition, due to the shutdown of church music and related activities.  In 1996, a version of the work for male voices (not arranged by the composer) was performed by the Men’s Choir of the Moscow Choral Academy.  A year later, in 1997, Kastalsky’s full SATB work was finally premiered in Cambridge, Massachusetts, by the Russian Chamber Chorus, an amateur American choir. The score from which we are working, prepared and published by Music Russica, became available only in 2014, and the work is only gradually entering the repertoire of American choirs. We are excited to be working on it, and eager to present it to you in concert, March 26-27, in Hyde Park and in Lincoln Park. So reserve one of those dates!

Change and Transition at Chicago Chorale

Chicago Chorale started out, twenty years ago, as a group of friends gathering one night a week to sing together, rehearsing music to be sung for an audience of more friends.  We didn't know where we might go, how we might grow.  Our success surprised all of us, and fed our hopes, our plans, our dreams.  We had no blueprint;  we had no money;  we had no sponsoring organization directing our activities or holding us to any particular expectations.  Our members had ideas, and expertise in various fields;  and our surrounding community seem interested in listening to us.  We had many strengths. But we were a tangled mess in terms of focus and direction.

Megan Balderston, Managing Director of Chicago Chorale (Photo Credit Erielle Bakkum)

 It was a major step for us, after a few months, to sit around a table and decide we needed to get organized. And it was another major step, a few years later, to realize that relying upon volunteers to handle all that organization, was hobbling us.  Volunteers wear out.  Our succession of presidents— Stephen Baker, Jana French, David Houggy—were being severely stressed. I lacked the expertise and personal qualities to supply the necessary administration. We were too big, too ambitious, too growth-oriented, to continue as we were doing. 

That group around the table decided to hire, on a very part-time basis, a university graduate student to help us get things done.  That student graduated and was replaced by another, who also graduated. That’s what students do. But in the meantime, we were putting together enough money to talk about hiring a professional part-time administrator.  We drew up a job description, advertised the position, and hired Megan Balderston.  

Megan had several years’ experience in the Chicago arts scene, but wanted to step back from the intense, full-time administrative work she had been doing. She had two young children and other irons in the fire, and was looking for a part-time position.  She was just the person we were looking for, and she became an essential part of our team.  She knew how to write grant proposals, how to handle donors and supporters. She knew how to work with designers, printers, and venue administrators.  She had the skills and experience to move us to the next level.  

Chorale’s growth continued, much of it fed by Megan’s work, and the demands of managing that growth ballooned.  It became increasingly clear that we needed a full-time managing director to keep us on a productive path, and to guide us into the future.  Sadly, this ballooning was not what Megan wanted or needed, and she has decided to step back and let a new person take up the reins of this galloping horse.  

Megan— we are grateful for your hard work, your enthusiasm, your belief in what Chorale can accomplish.  You have earned a rest and the opportunity to try something new. Our partnership— yours and mine— has been fruitful and positive, and has meant so much in Chorale’s growth and success.  I’ll miss you.  Thanks for everything.

-Bruce

Music for Christmas (Post #2)

When we think Christmas music, we think of Christmas carols.  That’s a broad category, and hard to define.  Wikipedia says: “A carol is a festive song, generally religious but not necessarily connected with church worship, and sometime accompanied by a dance…Today the carol is represented almost exclusively by the Christmas carol, the Advent carol, and to a lesser extent by the Easter carol.”

Festive song? OK, if “festive” refers to association with a festival.  The structure, character and mood of carols varies widely, and many of them would not be described as “festive;” but somehow the singers, and the audience, sense whether a particular piece is a hymn, a liturgical movement, a concert work, or a carol.  I think singability has a lot to do with it— if the listener imagines having a good time singing along, then it is a carol. 

Usually, a carol has a series of verses, each of which is followed by a common refrain.  O Come, O Come Emmanuel, which I listed last week in the plainsong category, has become, over time, a carol, in this sense— a series of verses interspersed with a refrain.  O Come All Ye Faithful, as well, started out as a Latin hymn, but has come to function similarly, complete with refrains.  Philip Stopford’s Lully, Lulla, Lullay, though recently composed, sets the words of a traditional carol, and follows the common form of verses followed by refrain. It is more clearly a “composed” piece than the two preceding carols;  its through-composed texture hides the divisions between verse and refrain, and the variations in voicing, as well as the frequent repetition of the refrain, would make it difficult for an audience to join in.  

In the Bleak Midwinter, by Gustav Holst, has no refrain, only a series of verses.  As such, it is more a hymn than a carol;  but it is so well-known and -loved that it is included in the Oxford Book of Carols, with the added note, “This poem, with its tune from the English Hymnal and Songs of Praise, is so much a carol that we feel bound to include it here also.” 

Two other carols on our program are also included in the Oxford Book of Carols: Infant Holy, Infant Lowly, a Polish carol translated and arranged by David Willcocks, and Ding! Dong! Merrily on High, a French tune harmonized by Charles Wood.  The former lacks a refrain between verses but is otherwise very much a carol;  the latter is a classic carol in all respects.  We are also singing Maria Durch ein Dornwald ging, a German carol set by Stefan Claas, in which each stanza has two refrains:  Kyrie eleison, and Jesus und Maria.  

Chorale will also sing what is perhaps the best-known of all carols, Silent Night, in a setting by Stephen Paulus.  Paulus regarded himself as an opera composer, and this setting exemplifies his penchant for rich textures, grand statements, and dramatic contrasts.  Its impact goes far past our usual experience of the original German carol but does it no injustice.  The Advent and Christmas season can easily be seen as a theatrical extravaganza in which everyone participates, and Paulus captures this character wonderfully, without overdoing it.

Music for Christmas (Post #1)

Liber usualis

The search for choral music appropriate to the Advent and Christmas season takes one down many a highway and byway.  High roads and low roads. One popular, well-trodden road is music based upon Gregorian chant.

I always love to sing music based upon, or resembling, medieval plainsong. It is the oldest music we sing, and some of the best; its beauty has kept it current for a very long time.  And I often begin concerts with chant—  it provides a basis from which the rest of the music, and the choir’s vocalism, grows.  

Our upcoming concert begins with O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, a well-known hymn which is actually not plainsong, but based on plainsong style. The melody is first documented in 16th century France, the Latin text in 18th century Germany.  The words are based upon the O Antiphons, a collection of verses originating in monastic life in the 8th or 9th century. Seven days before Christmas Eve monasteries would sing the O antiphons in anticipation of Christmas Eve.  Alice Parker, the arranger, uses almost nothing outside of the original materials.  I have a set of octavos I have saved from when I sang  many of Ms. Parker’s arrangements with Robert Shaw—  and I have frequently written, in the margins, “quasi Gregorian,” his favorite way of telling us to eliminate personal characteristics of our voices, in favor of the selfless ideal he valued in chant.

Franz Biebl's Ave Maria is a setting of the Angelus Prayer, which dates back to 13th century Italy.  The text consists of three repetitions of the Ave Maria, each preceded by verses from Luke 1:26–38, which describe the angel Gabriel announcing to Mary that she would conceive a child to be born the Son of God. The music of these narrative sections, although composed by Biebl himself, is consciously modeled on plainsong style;  Chorale sings it as chant, with a solo opening followed by all the male voices, singing with a somewhat free, chant-like inflection of the text. The setting of the Ave Maria, in contrast, is purest German romanticism.  The justaposition  works well, and contributes greatly to the esteem in which this motet is held by modern audiences.

Drop Down Ye Heavens From Above is Judith Weir’s reworking of portions of the plainsong text and melody Rorate caeli desuper. In her notes attached to the Novello description of the work, Weir writes “[T]he music has a plainsong-like shape (although not based on any real plainsong).”  A close look at the Rorate chant in the Liber Usualis, however, indicates that she quotes the music of the plainsong antiphon at both the opening and the close of her motet, setting a direct English translation of the appropriate Latin text.  The material between these two statements makes use of words and music drawn from the original chant, artfully manipulated and reordered by the composer. The resulting whole is a synthesis of original chant material and the composer’s imagination.   

Liber usualis

Drop Down, Ye Heavens, From Above, by Judith Weir

Singing plainsong, and music derived from plainsong, is not only artistically gratifying;  it teaches a choir to sing with a flexible line, to pronounce text meaningfully, and to devote themselves to a clean, pure section sound.  These style characteristics are invaluable, as an ensemble moves into the music of succeeding centuries.

Emerging Voices: Chicago Chorale Highlights Woman Composers

Alice Parker

A number of the selections on our current program have been composed or arranged by woman composers.  The best-known of them, Alice Parker (born 1925), worked with Robert Shaw for many years, arranging familiar tunes from many traditions for choral performance.  Though both names are usually listed as arrangers on their many joint publications, I once heard Mr. Shaw say that Ms. Parker did all the work;  he just cleaned it up for performance. Her simple arrangement of the Gregorian melody O Come O Come Emmanuel is just right, in every respect:  she invests this well-known, well-loved hymn with warmth and dignity through antiphonal use of the men’s and women’s sections of the choir, enriching it harmonically but never weighing down the crystalline character of the chant.  I have sung many, many of her arrangements, and invariably find them to be this good— respectful, unobtrusive, a joy to sing.

Judith Weir

Judith Weir (born 1954), sets the plainsong Rorate caeli desuper (Drop down, ye heavens, from above). She begins with a simple fauxbourdon— the voices singing a perfect fourth apart, lending a distinctly medieval character to the piece.  She then brings her setting forward several centuries by employing parallel thirds, evolving finally into a rich, 8-part climax before returning to something more akin to her language earlier in the piece.  She departs further from her source material than Alice Parker does, but always with reference to the early source of the chant. Effectively, she presents a thousand years of European liturgical development in one short, inclusive setting of this Advent text;  we sense the universal, ageless plea for salvation through her music, as well as through the words. 

Elizabeth Poston

Elizabeth Poston (1905-1987), like Judith Weir, was English, but turns to early American shape note hymnody for inspiration in her anthem, Jesus Christ the Apple Tree.  The angularity of her melody line, though not authentically pre-common practice (it is not, for instance, pentatonic, as many shape note tunes are), lends an overall impression of antiquity.  One commentator on YouTube goes so far as to say the work is not original, rather a reworking of a pre-existent shape note tune, though I find no evidence for this elsewhere.  Like Weir, she begins simply, adding harmonic complexity as she adds voices, then returning to unison (in canon) at the end.  I find this piece more “composed” than the two preceding ones, more personal.

Undine Smith Moore

The fourth woman composer on our program, Undine Smith Moore (1904-1989), also excelled at arranging preexisting material— in her case, African American spirituals.  Called the “Dean of Black Women Composers,” Ms. Moore was trained as a pianist and was active as a teacher throughout her career; it wasn’t until the 1950s that she discovered her knack for arranging of spirituals, which she transcribed as her mother sang them.  An article by Helen Walker-Hill is quoted in a Wikipedia entry as stating, “[Moore’s] ‘black idiom’ was the use of additive and syncopated rhythms, scale structures with gaps, call and response antiphony, rich timbres, melody influenced by rhythm, the frequent use of the interval of the third and, less frequently, fourths ad fifths, non-homophonic textures, and the deliberate use of striking climax with almost unrestrained fullness.” I could not better describe the character of I Believe This Is Jesus, the piece Chorale will sing at our concert.

Back to Making Sausage

Structuring an Advent/Christmas choral program— choosing repertoire and presenting it coherently— is tougher than one might think.  The theme is clear enough;  the difficulty lies in presenting a series of short pieces related only by text, in a narrative order which must make stylistic sense and fulfill the need for overall tension and release, leaving the audience (and singers) satisfied at the end.  And the individual pieces have to be satisfying, as well— some familiar, some challenging, all of them reinforcing our most “sentimental” holiday without slipping into the maudlin or manipulative. A broad, general audience loves Christmas and celebrates the season through music;  and though Chicago Chorale is not affiliated with any church or denomination, there are text and character expectations we must satisfy with our choices.  Listeners and singers want to feel comforted, nostalgic, and uplifted.  

Since Chorale began presenting Christmas concerts, four years ago, this planning has become one of the most difficult things I do. I poke around on YouTube, find programs of other ensembles, order single copies of newly-published music, ask friends and colleagues for suggestions. I consider the amount of rehearsal time we have, the fact that most of our singers will have been silent for several months before awakening and retooling their voices in the Fall (and the pandemic had many of them silent for more than a year!). And we have a large number of new singers with us this fall— which is temporarily destabilizing, though exciting in the long run.  The many transitions involved in such a concert, the many musical styles, even the choreography—  these considerations weigh heavily in the choices I make.

I begin with a long list, determine timings for individual pieces, set a time limit on the program, and then begin cutting. I move titles around, eliminate pieces for one reason or another, search out the right text or musical mood for a particular spot in the program, and leave open the possibility of changing my mind during the rehearsal period, if something doesn’t quite work. And I look outside of the rather austere body of repertoire from which I usually choose, hoping to appeal to a broader audience, and bring them into Chorale’s fold. It wouldn’t be Chorale unless we included music by such heavy hitters as Pärt, Vaughan Williams, Busto, Tavener, and Dubra; but much of what we sing at Christmas reflects a more popular or folk-based tradition, arranged or composed for SATB choir by skillful composers who have a particular feel for this work. 

I love these concerts, and the enthusiastic listeners who attend them. Last year, the lack of communal music was a big hole, for all of us;  I greatly look forward to being in the saddle again.  I hope to see you in December!  

Brave New World

The rubber has hit the road for choral groups this fall, as we meet after a year and a half’s hiatus, share space and air, plan concerts, wrestle with the possible and the impossible.  It’s a brave new world, as each ensemble tries various solutions to the problems that confront us all.

Chicago Chorale is fully masked, fully vaccinated, and halfway through its preparation period for our Christmas concerts, December 11 and 12.  We rehearse at Hyde Park Union Church, our home for the past several years, and I continue to be grateful for the acoustic properties of the church’s sanctuary, though we now tie ourselves in knots to utilize them. Venue, whether for rehearsal or performance, is a very special component of a choir’s sound— not only does it amplify and focus the choir’s sound for the listeners, but it is the space within which the conductor hears and evaluates the choir, and the singers hear themselves, and to which they respond when modifying their production to “fit into the sleeve of sound,” as Robert Shaw used to say.  I was privileged to watch my college conductor, Weston Noble, and Mr. Shaw himself, time after time, as they prepared their rehearsal spaces before rehearsal, adjusting the curtains just so, moving the chairs a quarter inch this way or that, building temporary platforms because a singer had to be located just there to make the proper contribution.  And with both conductors, it could be a frantic nightmare when doing a sound check in a new venue before a concert— adjusting an unfamiliar space so that it would enhance the choir’s sound appropriately.  On one particularly memorable occasion, in the chapel at Rocamadour, in France, I had the misfortune to be placed in front of a large wooden box, which amplified my voice to a degree that had Mr. Shaw tearing his hair out and yelling at me for my “immodest voice.” He was mollified only when the offending box was hidden behind several blankets, muting my offending voice. His stage manager and all-around factotum, Harry Keuper, often commented that Mr. Shaw was “toilet trained at the point of a gun,” as he helped in setting the chairs.

The Centers for Disease Control and the American Choral Directors’ Association, which issue guidelines about how choirs should sit and stand and breathe in these fraught times, were not around when Hyde Park Union Church was built, the chancel steps designed, the pews bolted to the floor, the railings fixed in place, the air exchange system installed. Spaces are too narrow or too broad, too straight or too abruptly curving— and totally inflexible.  Each Wednesday I spend two hours setting up, lugging chairs around, trying new configurations, eyeballing the 3-foot rule, trying to keep Chorale’s initial voice placement intact, making sure singers are not acoustically isolated or otherwise placed where they cannot function productively.  And during rehearsal, I keep my eye on the singers to be sure that they, like me, are not so irritated with their masks that they unconsciously pull them down.  And I keep my eye on the clock, so that active rehearsal periods are not too long, and breaks too short.  

All of this while breaking in sixteen new singers, trying to enable social rapport and cohesion, learning new music, motivating the group to enjoy and look forward to rehearsals, and working toward a polished performance.  

Through all of this, Chorale has, miraculously, been having a good time.  We have extraordinary new singers, who contribute beautifully to our sound and our morale.  Our repertoire is challenging, as always, but enjoyable to sing.  And we continue to ride a wave of relief and euphoria that we are able to do this, and that the Wednesday night Zoom meetings are a thing of the past. The Covid 19 pandemic is unforgettable, and not in a good way;  but we are excited about what lies ahead.  Music does make everything better.

Chicago Chorale's Season Begins

A late summer harvest from the garden. The end of one season, the beginning of another. Time for choir to begin!

Chicago Chorale will begin rehearsing for the 2021-22 season in just one week.  Along with other ensembles in our area, and around the country, we plan a full season, with in-person rehearsals, a full schedule of concerts, and live audiences.  It has been so long! since we sang together, listened closely to one another, learned new repertoire, experienced the transforming thrill of combining our talents for something so much bigger, so much better, than any one of us individually.  It’ll take time for us to get to know one another again, to welcome and absorb our new singers (sixteen of them!), to reestablish our choral disciplines and feel like an ensemble;  but the fundamental beauty and integrity of what we do— breathe life into the words, and into the lines and dots and spaces we see on the page, becoming the poets’ and composers’ voice— will catch us and buoy us up as we find ourselves once again.   

Much will be different than it was two years ago.  Every member of our group will be fully vaccinated against Covid;  we will all wear masks during rehearsals, until the CDC and the City of Chicago tells us otherwise;  we will sit in one spaced, single row, around the perimeter of our rehearsal space, rather than in three tight rows facing in one direction.  We will have less time for rehearsal, more time for breaks.  And we will not gather in tight groups to socialize.  Some singers will be nervous and worried about the possibility of infection, and this may affect their enjoyment at being together again.  

We’ll spend our first rehearsals rebuilding our sound— hearing voices with one another and placing them to establish our sections, assigning  divisi  past the normal SATB where the music requires it, listening for balance, hearing solo auditions. This kind of construction work happens every fall, and will be even more crucial after so long apart.  It’ll take time and patience. But my fervent hope is that the beauty of the music we perform—  some of it familiar and comfortable, in the spirit of the Christmas season;  some of it new and challenging, in the spirit of Chorale— will invigorate us, imbue our efforts with confidence, and reawaken the wonder of live performance for our singers, and our listeners.  

We will sing Advent Vespers at Monastery of the Holy Cross, in Bridgeport, on Saturday, December 4, at 5:15 PM.  And we will present our Christmas concerts Saturday, December 11, 8 PM, at St. Michael’s, in Old Town; and Sunday, December 12, 3 PM, at St. Thomas the Apostle, in Hyde Park.  Three acoustically splendid venues. We hope you’ll put us in your calendars, and hold these dates open to come and hear us.  

Auditions for Season 2021-2022

Chorale is currently hearing new singer auditions for the 2021-2022 season.  As usual, we will hear auditions for all four sections.  After a year of singing remotely, on Zoom, we have finally been able to meet in person, and actually rehearse, ensemble, the repertoire we have prepared on our own for our videos, these past twelve months.  These meetings have been so exhilarating for the current members!  We will rehearse for a few more weeks, then break for the summer, and prepare for the return of normalcy in the Fall. 

As happens every year, we have had to say goodbye to members whose circumstances have changed, or who are moving away— in several cases, had already moved away, but were able to join us weekly via Zoom, from Hawaii, New Orleans, Cleveland, San Francisco, St. Paul— there are a few pluses to the pandemic. So we have some openings.

What sort of singer does Chorale want?

We want singers with excellent pitch memory and interval recognition, and sufficient technique to sing consistently in tune, without distortion or uncontrolled vibrato.  We want singers with innate, comfortable rhythmic sense, who feel the rise and fall of the musical phrase and know, confidently, naturally, when to get in, when to get out.

We want singers who are confident enough that they are free to listen to the rest of the choir, rather than focus solely on their own singing.  We want them to be able to “listen louder than they sing.”

We want singers who read music fluently—or, lacking that, read it well enough that they can, and will, work out problems on their own, and arrive at rehearsal far enough along that they can keep up with better readers.

Chorale wants singers who are unafraid of language, and will prepare foreign languages (with coaching in rehearsals)on their own, and be able to contribute to the choir’s efforts, rather than be in need of constant correction.  Language is the singer’s greatest single gift , the thing that sets the singer apart from the instrumentalist and makes the vocal art special and irreplaceable.  Chorale cares a great deal about language.

Chorale wants singers who commit themselves to regular, prompt participation.  Tardiness and spotty attendance really drag a group down, inject an element of disrespect for the music, for the group, for the conductor. Along with this—Chorale wants singers who respect and admire one another, who are happy to work together, to face the same direction, listen to one another, and produce a unified product.

We want singers who are drawn to the music we program—who are moved, challenged, stimulated by great musical literature.

I purposefully leave vocal quality to last.  Yes, Chorale wants good voices, with interesting color and dynamic possibilities.  But we care somewhat more about the musician, than about the singer—we want our singers to place their voices at the service of the music, of the composer, of the ensemble, more than at the service of an abstract standard of vocal production.  We want our singers to love their voices; we want them to love music even more.

Contact us, at chicagochorale@gmail.com, if you’d like to schedule an audition.  I’d love to meet and hear you!