The Fredösphere

The A Cappella News tells us Les Choristes may be Oscar material, and has caused an explosion of interest in choral music in France:

Local choirs are having a heyday. In the past, "choral singing was not a so-called virile activity," said Bernard Lallement of the Association of Choir Directors for the Paris region. "It was better to play soccer than dare confess that you sang in a choir." Last year saw a 15 percent increase nationwide in children signing up for choirs, according to Thierry Thiebaut, director of a federation of 600 choral groups, "A Coeur Joie" (With a Joyful Heart). Demand is up 30 percent in the Lyon area, home of the choir featured in the movie.

From the same website we get a review of competing collegiate a cappella groups.  Those of you who collect cool band names like I do should check out the name of the winners:  Fermata Nowhere.

The University of Michigan has a very healthy a cappella scene, and I'm falling down on the job by not paying more attention to it.  I'll try to correct that as soon as I can.

The UAB choir will be performing at a venue in Paris, France, called the Notre Dame Cathedral.  I'm not familiar with the place myself, but they seem to be excited about it for some reason, so good for them.

Jessica Duchen puts down her shawm or glockenspiel or sousaphone or whatever it is she plays and finds herself seduced by the wealth, status and sheer glamour that comes from composing.  Great.  More competition.  Her slow start was caused by some...well, let her tell it:

So I trotted off to college thinking I might try composing - until I discovered a few things about the composing scene. First, it was entirely male dominated. I did have one female friend who refused to be put off by this and went for lessons with one of the place's resident eminent composers, but it was very clear, very fast, that we were not welcome in the clique - meanwhile, the place was full of arrogant little s**ts (male ones) who thought they were the next Beethoven and strode around the music faculty saying things like 'Prokofiev's rubbish'. But the attitude towards music that did not match accepted party lines - into serialism/modernism/systematic crafting evident only on paper and never to the ear - was the most destructive element. I well remember one friend - an extremely talented fellow - coming round for tea and saying, thoroughly perplexed, that his professor had just told him that he thought too much about the way his music sounded.

Helen Racide's arm pain makes you realize harp playing might have some serious occupational hazards.  She found near-miraculous relief through chiropractic adjustments.  It reminds me of what a life-changing experience using Flonase was for me: a "cold" that had lasted two months disappeared in twelve hours after my first use.  Hey, I'm not a doctor, I just play one on the internet, but fellow singers should check it out.