Never have we ever had so much fun!

The large recess between my last post and this one is thanks to another sort of new project that I've been working on. It was a weekend-long festival for the quirky and fun world of a cappella, and we called it VoCALnation.

Treble readies in our dressing room

The event was presented by the leading national organization for our little aca-world (CASA), and my a cappella group, Treble, served as the event's local "host". That meant that we had the privilege of performing at the Saturday night headliner concert, and also held much of the event planning responsibility. As part of an event production team of 4 from Treble and 2 from CASA, we spent 14 months creating a brand new event in New York City designed to bring the growing community of post-collegiate singers together. We're the kids who just couldn't leave the glory days of college a cappella behind. You probably remember us as your friendly campus music dorks. Now, we just wear that badge proudly by singing in bars, snapping with one hand, holding a dirty martini with the other. This dork life ain't so bad. 

In the days or so leading up to VoCALnation, I decided to pause on my new experiences blog because I wanted to focus on the event, and still make time for the joys of job-hunting. One of my friends argued that the event itself should be a part of my 30-day project, and I did consider it. But, this event was much more than a one-day new experience. It was months of planning, hundreds of emails, dozens of rehearsals, and three days of the most fun and joyful music event I've ever been a part of. With all do respect to these here interwebs, it's just simply more than a blog post. 

Where the magic happens

It was a fantabulous event. And I don't use amalgamate adjectives often. Semi-pro groups came in from all over the country: North Carolina, Boston, Memphis, LA, Vermont, DC. Our headline act, the Grammy-award winning Swingle Singers, came all the way from London (and blew everyone's minds; if you don't know them, check them out). The evening concert was held at the beautiful Florence Gould Hall, which is a dramatically steep black-box theater with vintage orange-marigold velvet seats. There isn't a bad seat in the house. There were FIVE standing ovations during the performance: one for Duwende, the infectious first headliner that rocked Michael Jackson and Prince, and a whopping 4 standing O's for the Swingles, every one of which they deserved.

Both the Friday night and Saturday night after-parties went until last call. New friendships were made, old ones were enjoyed, none of us wanted the weekend to end. But, we kinda needed it to. We were exhausted. And we just can't party like we're in college anymore (well, OK, seems like we can. But only for a weekend...)

It was a blast, and I'm so grateful to have been a part of this project with the production team, the ladies of Treble, CASA, all the instructors, performers, volunteers, attendees and singers, and especially my incredibly supportive family and friends, who have graciously sat through more a cappella concerts than any human should ever have to endure.  

I'm back to the bloggery, which, admittedly, is dragging on wellllllllllll beyond the 30 days. Oh well, it's fun! The longer, the better. I do plan to wrap up soon, and I have my final "new" experience all planned and booked, and it's a goodie. It won't be happening till April 15, so stay tuned, friends. 

*For those wondering, the odd capitalization in VoCALnation stands for the "Contemporary A Cappella League" which is a membership-based alliance of post-collegiate, semi-pro groups. In other words, we're the grown-up groups. Most of us perform regularly, are known in our local communities, and mostly take only paying gigs, but we don't make a living by doing it (and yes, some groups actually do.) 

Treble's on-stage moment

Duwende, sound-checking

The Swingle Singers, being inhumanly awesome

all photos [except top photo] by Michael Eldredge, (c) LivingFiction Photography 

Day 22: Never have I ever... taught a high school music class

I was thrilled when an a cappella friend asked me to volunteer at his after-school music program. He is a volunteer teacher for the program, as well. Every Monday, he works with a group of teens in a high(er) risk high school on the Lower East Side where his wife is a teacher. 

The Alto Section. Go Altos!

Since my music and theater experience are my fondest memories of high school, and it helped me make friends, discover my passions, and find a tiny morsel of teenage confidence, it's an educational offering that I feel is so important. I am totally with VH1. Save the Music! (That sounds trite. It's not. So many kids find their inner voice by way of the performing arts.) 

This Monday was my first class. It was a 75 minute rehearsal, and my friend (we'll call him Mr. G) was directing. He is working with the class on an a cappella performance for their school's annual talent show in early May. My role is to serve as the female vocal teacher. 

We started with warm-ups. Mr. G had them sing an "up" which was fairly complex. I was impressed. Then he turned to me and said "Carrie, what does Treble do for a down"? I started singing our warm-up. "Beeyum Beeyum Beeyoh. Beeeeeeee Ahhhhhhhh Beeeeeee Ohhhhhhh" (going down the scale in intervals of a perfect 4th, minor 3rd and major 3rd, for all you music nerds out there.) He said "Wow, that's a bit too hard." Uh oh. I'm there two seconds and already screwing this up. But I just kept singing. After a few scales of muddy notes and confused looks, they... they were singing it. They got it. OK, this is pretty cool. 

Then he moved on to the meat of the rehearsal. The piece Mr. G is teaching is "Just the Way You Are, as performed by Bruno Mars. I admit it: I kind of like the song. The song is a pop-y piece of crap, but it's a catchy little ditty nonetheless. He was only teaching the Alto and Soprano parts for a two-part harmony. Easy-peasy. I was able to sight-read most of it and right away I could hear where the Altos were having issues. I (politely) corrected some of their rhythms; I felt like such a bitch! I guess that's what a good teachers know how to do... correct students constructively so they want to improve. And not be a bitch. 

I was scared of the kids. I mean, they were looking at me. They were looking at me like I knew what I was doing. And I really don't. I'm not a music teacher; hell, I'm not really that great of a musician. I learn music by grit and repetition. But I wasn't there to just teach them music. I was there to teach them how to sing, how to perform, and how to feel confident doing it. 

A soprano that I worked with one-on-one

I noticed one of the Altos missed a coda and got lost in the music. So, during a pause, I asked her if she knew where to turn back to the coda. She didn't know what a coda was. Well... guess it's me that should explain this concept to her, because, um, I'm the teacher. Right. Ok, this is challenging... how do I explain, in words, a concept  that is now just intrinsic for me? I used the good old "show n' tell" method, and she seemed to get it. Wait, did I just teach someone about codas?! This made me very happy. 

We also worked on where singers should feel the sound  at different points in their range: head, throat, nose, etc. They were really interested in this! Finally, we worked on increasing volume while staying on pitch. I showed them a volume exercise where you sing the same note at increasing levels of volume from pianissamo to fortissamo. Sounds easy? Try it. Yep, try it right now in your living room/office/wherever you are. Try singing a note soft, then a little louder, then a little louder still, without changing your pitch, until you are at your full volume. It's harder than you think! The ladies liked the challenge and we agreed that next week we'd all do it together. Mr. G was pleased to see them engaged. 

The class was winding down, but I didn't feel ready to leave. The energy of the students was incredible. The giggles, the funny comments, the camaraderie, the enthusiasm... I loved being around these girls. In a world where teenagers are being constantly overexposed  and over-sexualized (thank you, MTV's Skins) it was so refreshing to be around kids who just seemed like... kids. They talked about college, graduation, being excited and scared to sing in front of their whole school, being excited and scared to leave high school. They were so relatable. They were just... honest.

Results: I'm not sure how much I really did for these kids, but I'm psyched to go back next Monday, and every Monday until their performance. And I plan to be front and center, clapping loudly, when these ladies perform at their school's talent show. 

I also had a tiny little window into the world of teaching. I have some fabulous educators as friends, and I've never respected and admired them more. Ms. Berkman, Ms. Behrman, Mr. Mosteirin, Dr. Brown, Mrs. Balsam, and all of my former teachers... I'm talking to you. Learning how to teach effectively is tricky. Connecting with kids is HARD. Thank you so much for doing that every day. Where would any of us be without our teachers? 

Status: I'm not the judge of this one. The kids are. 

Day 10: Never have I ever... sung a madrigal

Ok, I couldn't have done this one on my own. It's only thanks to 12 other ladies that I am able to include this new experience in my 30-day project. Therefore this is more of a "we" post than an "I" post. However, I can't speak for the rest of my group mates. Perhaps madrigals are just another day in the choir room for them. But for me, this was a first. 

Madrigal Mates

The musical group I sing with is strictly a pop group. In our repertoire, the 1938 jazz standard "Our Love is Here to Stay" by Gershwin is as ancient as we get. So singing a madrigal is completely out of our wheelhouse. Many of us, myself included, were trained to sing in classical choirs. I've sung my fair share of true choral works: Handel's Messiah, Fauré's Requiem, Mendelssohn's Elijah. Legit stuff. But a madrigal is something I've never touched. Madrigals are a type of chamber music that originated in Italy in the 14th century. It's perhaps best connected to its second popularization in the late Renaissance and early Baroque periods. Either way, this shit be old. 

Most importantly, Madrigals are sort of like a cappella musical poetry. The usual form is two or three stanzas of three lines each, with 7 or 11 syllables per line. It also usually changes tempo from common time to 6/8, which is a particularly tricky tempo change to maneuver. And it's polyphonic, meaning it's always meant to be sung by multiple voices. Enter Treble. 

We began learning the madrigal two weeks ago. It was a piece of cake. We nailed it. The end. 

Yeah. Not so much. We started out by learning the rhythm only. We spoke the lyrics to rhythm over and over again before even attempting the music. That seemed to go OK. Then, we banged out the notes. Ok, time to put the two together. It was like a peanut butter and vaseline sandwich. There was nothing... no song... not even a sloppy madrigal. Cacophony. So, under strict instructions, we went home and worked on the piece individually. I must have listened to it 25 times over the past week. 

We reconvened last night. The first go wasn't impressive. We banged out the tricky measures over and over, building the sound brick by brick, layer by layer, until we were making it through... slowly. Then, something just clicked. We could hear what it was supposed to sound like... rich, beautiful harmonies, tightly bobbing and weaving around each other in less than two octaves worth of musical space. It was gorgeous. The movement of each part showed its purpose. But that purpose couldn't be revealed alone. Only when the four parts lock together could we see the composer's destination. We were singing a madrigal. 

This awesome high carried us through the rest of an awesome (and long) rehearsal. Our sense of achievement was palpable. Every song we sang after that was better, juicier, more dynamic. The madrigal was almost... magical. 

Did I forget to mention that it is a madrigal version of "Hit Me Baby One More Time" by Britney? Oops. Must have forgot. 

(Yes, that Britney.) 

Results: Though chamber music isn't my usual genre of choice, I'm so incredibly happy to have learned one. And I cannot wait to perform it with 12 amazing musicians next week! 

Status: Success!