I spent last evening rehearsing with a local barbershop chorus. I
have a few thoughts.
It is very good for a conductor to spend time on the other side of the
baton.
Barbershop is a world that intersects but slightly with the church
music world, and even more slightly with the high-brow choral world.
It has a blue-collar vibe that is startling. When the local director
wants his singers to sit down, he yells "sit dooooown!" The church
ladies' perms would curdle if a choir director talked that way to them.
Barbershop groups tend to be somewhat flexible stylistically when they
perform, but they are not given that latitude when they compete. The
Barbershop
Harmony Society defines what music is "contestable." I have heard
rumors of barbershop's reputation for stylistic conservatism; it is a
topic discussed in whispers, usually in seedy bars in third-world
seaports. It is one thing to hear the rumors; it is quite another
thing to sit down with the official BHS Contest and Judging Handbook
and read its rather (!) detailed, über-geeky rules for chord use:
The dominant ninth chord is used primarily when it is
implied by the melody and the melody lies on the ninth. Occasionally,
the ninth may appear in another voice to create a pleasing duet or to
create natural voice leading. Only the root or fifth may be omitted,
usually the root. Use of a chord with the fifth omitted must be
justified by a valid musical reason. If the root is present, it must
be voiced more than an octave below the ninth.
They also disallow instruments of any kind. Looks like a plan to
introduce an
airplane propeller
into my next barbershop composition is a non-starter.
Which brings me to the next point. You know my agenda is to write
music for these guys. "But Fred," you scream hysterically, "those
rules! They'll stifle your artistic expression!" We roll our eyes at
the rules because personal expression is a Myth that dominates our
modern understanding of art. Then we reconsider, reminding ourselves
that constraints often stimulate creativity: think
Rachmaninoff's
Vespers.
The truth is that art struggles in environments that are too
permissive, but also, in environments that are too restrictive.
There's a region of magical twilight where just enough resistence leads
to just the right kind of struggle that results in a satisfying work of
art. That finding that region is difficult is only one more way that
Art Is Hard.
I'm going to try writing a contestable barbershop composition. I won't
spend all my time in the barbershop world, but I'm going to enjoy it
while I'm there. I will wallow in lush harmonies and indulge my
wildest passing-tone cravings. One does not fill one's bathtub with
chocolate pudding every day, but one does it once in a while, right?
(You
do do that, right? Hello? Anyone?)
Frankly, I completely get the reason these rules were developed.
Novelty grants a short-term advantage but causes mission creep over the
long-term. These guys want a contest of barbershop music, and they
don't want their contest spoiled because some jerks perform a
"barbershop rap" or some other abomination that brings the house down
and wins the trophy. (A bronzed shaving brush, no doubt.) Coney
Island Baby: yes. Phoney Island Baby: definitely not. It's in the
nature of things that, over the years, BHS judges were forced to define
what barbershop means, in ever more legalistic terms.
If you read the rules carefully, you'll find they include escape
clauses. A little of the vermouth of dissonance is allowed, as long as
the important chords deliver lots of the gin of dominant and tonic.
I'll look for subtle ways to subvert their paradigm. If I'm lucky,
I'll subvert it and make them like it.
Labels: BarbershopHarmony, Choral, Composition
Umie the Umlaut says, "ask your doctor about the Fredösphere!"
