More about our community ... and how does religion fit into it?

I really like what David had to say about Rock My Soul as a community. He calls our group "a great experiment." (Sometimes he calls it a radical experiment, but "radical" is a word some find scary, so we'll leave it at great. What he means by radical, or at least what I think he means, is that we're trying something different, going places where not many others have ventured, and he's right--it is great fun. And great work. We have a wonderful, respectful community full of inspiring and inspired souls, for which I am very grateful.)

This leads to the next topic, and that's how religion fits into our community, which is made up of (1) people of varying faiths, (2) people who are just being introduced to faith, and (3) people who for their own reasons prefer not to be involved with religion at all but feel the need to express their understanding of spirit through music alone. I'm often struck by how delicate the subject of religion can be in our community. On the one hand, we sing gospel music, so some would think the religious aspect is a given. But in our case, we feel it's of utmost importance to welcome anyone, regardless of their belief system, for we believe it's a good thing to learn from differences. It helps us clarify our own ways of understanding. And the really interesting thing is that it helps us to see that all those differences have a lot in common. What interests us is unity, not separation. And unity is what gospel music is all about. Let's all get to that great place together. You go your way, I'll go mine, but we'll see each other at the same destination. We're all pretty much searching for the same thing, and when we feel it while singing together, we know we've arrived.

One way to approach such a delicate and personal topic as religion in a community like ours is to leave it be, allowing each person to his or her own understanding. Sometimes this is appropriate. But to avoid it altogether wouldn't be good, for we sing about celebrating spirit and faith. So when we have our opening "meditation" at rehearsals, we give everyone space to express themselves in a way that means something to them. Some of us are evangelistic COGIC, Baptist, or Apostolic members. Some are more conservative Episcopalian and Catholic. Some Unitarian or Bah'ai. And, as David mentioned already, some agnostic. One member might offer up a prayer where he asks Jesus to fill our hearts with light. One might focus on more Eastern philosophical sayings from the Buddha and ask us to do breathing exercises. And one might just keep it strictly nondenominational and ask us to leave the cares of the day behind so we can open ourselves to being present and singing with all our hearts. The point is, there's room for it all. And the more you allow everyone to speak from their own understanding, the more you see that religion doesn't have to be scary. It's the fear of the unknown that can be a problem, and that barrier is one we'd just as soon tear down. We've all seen in this country and in this world what fear can do. It's ugly.

We've been singing "Good Religion" lately at rehearsal. I think this is what's making me think about the topic so much. A few years ago, I listened to a minister talk about the difference between good and bad religion. Good religion, she said, opens hearts, broadens understanding and compassion, gives room for healing in different ways, and unites. Bad religion judges, controls, punishes, constricts, and divides. Like anything at the hands of human beings, there is beauty in religion, and there are flaws. One doesn't exist without the other. Unfortunately, too many of us in this world have experienced bad religion in one form or another, and it leaves deep scars. But does that mean that all religion is bad? No, of course not. There are many thriving religious communities of all denominations that do wonderful work to make the world a better place. Yet we have to respect that not all of us have experienced being part of one of those communities, or even want to become part of one. Everyone has his or her own journey. Our focus is on singing the music and celebrating the universal goodness of spirit through it. We're not church. But we sure are connected.

Can someone who's not a Christian sing gospel music? I say a hearty yes to that question. That's because the principles behind Christianity are universal. Who doesn't want peace, love, compassion, an ability to embrace that which is difficult and transcend it through faith, hope, and a belief in something higher, something better? All good religions have those principles at their core. All good people, even good people who don't go to church, hold them in their hearts. I've seen it work in our community. And it's a pretty powerful thing.

When we sing, "So glad I got good religion," it means different things to each of us. And when we sing that wonderful last line of the chorus, "my feet been taken out the miry clay," some of us might interpret it literally, straight from the Bible, and some may interpret it more metaphorically as meaning we've been lifted from the muck and mire of life into a higher way of being. Both are perfectly OK.

Let's not forget that the slaves, when they were forced to come to this country, weren't Christians. They saw immediately through the hypocrisy of their "owners," who preached the words but certainly didn't act according to them. But in an inspired turn, the slaves saw the stories of Moses and the Israelites as a metaphor for their own plight and began to embody the true principles behind Christianity, which eventually led to the forming of new Pentecostal and COGIC churches and camp revivals, and also began a new form of folk and spiritual music that to this day changes lives. The thing I find most fascinating as an illustration of how the slaves did adhere to true belief in peace and other Christian principles is that they didn't uprise and seek revenge against their enslavers when they were freed. There are a few exceptions, but as a rule, they used their community and their music to continue to sustain them as they began to make better lives for themselves. And then there was Dr. King. It wasn't easy, and still isn't. We still have so much to learn. That's what we try to do in our group--learn from the history and the music and unite in peace and understanding. In our own way. One song at a time.

Rock My Soul as community

As a member of Rock My Soul from the get-go, I want to pick up on one of the themes from Dawn's previous posts. It has to do with the sense of community. As someone who is just beginning to learn about the gospel tradition, it seems to me that a sense of community is vital to a successful gospel choir. I believe we have that in Rock My Soul. But the trick with community is that it can't be forced. And for authentic community to happen, people have to enter into it with a spirit of respect and compassion -- for one another, and in this case, for the music and the tradition.

What makes us interesting, I think, is that we are not part of any specific religious community. At the same time, many of our members belong to various religious traditions. And some would even describe themselves as agnostic. Yet we are a community. Our community is formed not around a specific religious tradition or doctrine, but around the music itself -- its history and meaning over the years -- and what it still can mean and will come to mean in the future. Our community is drawn together for the music. It is the uplifting power of the music that we seek to share with audiences.

This is a relatively revolutionary approach to forming a gospel choir. And it is working. Rehearsals are great. We're finding our own way, developing our own style. And we're bringing a particular choral tradition music - gospel music - to a part of the world - New England - that's not usually associated with gospel music. What fun!

If you haven't heard Rock My Soul sing yet, come hear us! If you have thoughts to share, please comment. If you can't hear us live (or if you can!), buy our CD. Go to www.dfgp.org You'll enjoy it, I do believe. Oh, and we're always looking for tenors.

Arts Week with Sister Alice Martin (Part One)

Wow! What an experience! Carolyn Morse-Finn and I got back late last night from our 5-day workshop with Sister Alice Martin at the Omega Institute. About 70 people also enrolled, so we had a big choir to sing with. There's so much to share that it might have to be split up into a few different "chapters"; here's the first.


On day one, Sister Alice quietly introduced herself and her brother "Fatty," who accompanies on keyboards (and who isn't fat at all, except in his immense talent). They have such a deep musical connection that he often guessed where she was going before she even had to say anything to him. That was very cool to watch. She asked us to seat ourselves according to what part we thought we sang. Sopranos sat to her right, tenors and basses in the middle, and altos to her left. I usually sing in the soprano section with Rock My Soul, but I decided I wanted to stretch myself and learn to sing alto parts, so I sat with Carolyn, who usually sings alto or tenor, and all the other altos.

Sister Alice then asked if anyone had certain things they wanted from the week. I raised my hand and said we were part of a gospel choir in New England and were looking forward to seeing how a "real" gospel choir did things. Others said they wanted to learn how to move when they sang, how to sing better, and some even said they just wanted to see what singing gospel was like in general. Sister Alice said there was one thing she was confident of, and that was that we'd leave much different than when we came. She was right.

She then went over the "rules." She stressed that we were a community, and that being a community would help us sing better. (That's our emphasis in Rock My Soul too.) She told us she moved a lot when she taught and sang, and she demonstrated what her hand gestures meant: there was one for singing in unison, one for splitting into our parts, one for stopping, one for swelling, and one for modulating (going up into a different key). Finally, she said that we were to look at her always as we sang. As the leader, she needed to have our complete attention if we were to learn all that she wanted us to. Her plan was to have us learn from 15 to 20 songs in 4 days, perform some of them on the 4th night for the entire Omega community of 400 who were there for Arts Week, and on the 5th day have our own talent show, where we could perform for others in our group if we wanted to share our gifts. That sounded like a lot, and some of us weren't so sure we could learn all that material, especially if we didn't have lyric sheets or sheet music! But she assured us that we would remember.

And off she went, right into the first song. She started by having us speak a line or two after her. Then she sang the soprano part, loudly and with such feeling we were left speechless with our mouths hanging open in awe. What a voice! She had the sopranos sing the lines after her--two, three, four, five, however many times it took to get it right so that the lines were sung with the same feeling and emphasis she modeled. Then she moved to the altos and sang that line, having us repeat the same way. Then to the tenors and basses, who most often had the same part. In some cases, she asked the "top tenors" to sing a different line, but that was more the exception than the rule. After we'd all sung our parts enough times that she was satisfied we'd gotten them down, we sang a section of a song together, over and over. When that was solid, she moved to the next section. And so it went until we'd gone through every section. Then it was time to put it all together and sing the whole song, with her coaching us by speaking or singing the lines right before we sang them. In 3 hours, we had 4 songs down. Whew! The interesting part was that it never felt like work. Because it was all in context and done with such feeling and gusto, it was downright fun, and we all bonded immediately through the experience.

We had a 2 1/2 hour break for lunch, and it was back to the workshop for 2 1/2 more hours of learning. We reviewed what we'd gone over that morning, polished up difficult spots, and learned some more new material. By the end of the day, we had 6 songs. She thanked everyone for their hard work, and with a big smile said that even though we might not believe it, we'd wake up in the morning with the words and music to the songs in our heads. She was right. I was astounded and very happy to see such an effective teaching method in action! I was also mesmerized that this way of teaching helped us learn so much more quickly than reading sheet music--it made us internalize the music and feeling behind the songs right away, and in that sense helped us sing in one day what might normally take weeks or months to accomplish through other methods.

But it wasn't just her teaching style that reached us so quickly and deeply. Sister Alice lives what she sings, and it shows. There is a peace about her, a calm and stillness that you know comes from many years of faith work. She embodies spirit in a way I've encountered very few times in my life, but each time I have, the impact is so strong it has changed me. I know the real thing when I see it, and Sister Alice is definitely the real thing. She and Brother Fatty are life changers. I watched their gifts of music and spirit profoundly touch those in our singing community, and it was something to behold.

From her peace springs a joy so big, so bold that it can't help but bust out and uplift everyone around her when she sings. That's how it was when she sang to us to help us learn our lines. Much different from the quiet reserve that so many of us in New England are used to, and it was reassuring to me as a gospel singer! (I have never been able to stand still or hold back vocally while singing gospel solos, and after watching Sister Alice, I realized that is definitely OK. She kept telling us to move with it, walk with it, and I was more than happy to oblige.) Carolyn and I sang so loudly that I wondered if my voice would hold out. I was worried that we'd offend those around us, because when you're in a choir you want to focus on blending with other voices around you. I guess in gospel it doesn't work that way so much. Sure, you want to blend, but you want to blend by having EVERYONE sing as loudly as the emotion of a song is meant to convey. Carolyn said she tried to blend, but she just got so excited she could't help herself. All that mattered was singing out all the joy and light in our hearts and souls. THAT'S gospel.

It was fun to watch some of the altos cluster around Carolyn when they heard her. Carolyn has a big voice, and they looked to her as a leader in our section so they could make sure they had their notes right. Way to go, Carolyn! Sister Alice noticed, too. She kept looking over in our direction with a huge smile, and she said more than once, "Altos, when you're on, you're ON!" (Of course, that also meant sometimes we could really go south, but oh well! That'll happen when you learn a lot of songs in such a short time, and some of them were pretty complicated.) That was another thing I was struck by--how positive Sister Alice was about what we did. Every time each section got a part down, she'd have the rest of us give them a big hand. It makes all the difference. And when we veered off course, she'd shake her head and joke with us in a way that let us know how to do it better without feeling bad about making mistakes. I realized how important a good sense of humor is in a director. There's a lightness in her approach that I learned a lot from. I can still hear her saying, "Altos, I don't know what y'all were just singing, but it wasn't what I taught you," and then busting into laughter before singing the correct line loudly to us over and over until we got it right. She's a gifted teacher.

Since this post is getting really long, I'll write more later. I feel I've barely touched the surface of all I learned and want to share. I guess for now I'll end with the same way I started: Wow!

Carolyn and I Are Off to a Gospel Workshop

On Sunday, July 16, Carolyn Morse-Finn and I get into the car and drive for four hours to the Omega Institute in Rhinebeck, NY for a 5-day Gospel Community workshop. We're trying not to have too many expectations, but we're excited. We get to spend almost an entire week with Sister Alice Martin, who is billed as "an electrifying gospel singer, songwriter, and choir leader. Sister Alice Martin was the group musical instructor for the late 'Queen of Gospel,' Marion Williams and her Marion Williams Singers. Sister Alice is also the music instructor of the acclaimed Bryn Mawr Haverford Gospel Choir, and is on the music faculty of the B.M. Oakley Memorial Temple in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania." Much of the workshop is devoted to singing different types of gospel--Southern gospels, spirituals, hymns, jubilee quartets, Civil Rights songs and more--and learning the vocal technique inherent to each style. This fits right in with the Gospel Music Project's mission, and to be able to learn from a nationally known expert is a privilege.

I hope we'll be able to sit and talk with Sister Alice about her experience leading gospel choirs and quartets. Does she rely on sheet music? Or teach by ear? If she does teach by ear, how does she remember from week to week what she does? How do her students retain what they learn? Part of the struggle we have here in New England is a lack of rich gospel musical heritage, and because of that, we someimes lean on the western European classical tradition to teach harmonies. It's OK, but it lacks the depth of true gospel harmonies, especially the ones sung in the old spirituals and jubilee quartets. (I'm thinking of groups like The Dixie Hummingbirds or The Clara Ward Singers here.) There's not a lot out there as far as gospel music theory goes (recommendations welcome, if anyone has them!), and what has become all too apparent is that we've inadvertently created an interesting tension in our group. We are made up of many different kinds of people, most of whom grew up with little or no background in singing, not just gospel, but any kind of music, on a regular basis. Gospel music was originally an oral tradition learned and sung by ear. How do we teach that to those who never had a chance to develop these skills?

My southern friends and I talk about our fond memories of singing on the front porch with our families. It was there, as children, that we began to intuitively pick up the ability to hear and sing harmonies, and we learned most of our music that way. I drove my sisters crazy with my obsession about harmony. I'd sit them down and sing different parts I heard and have them sing back to me, then we'd all sing our parts together, and it was the best feeling in the world. In our case, it was our father we learned most of our music from. He'd take out his guitar on summer weekends, sit out on a big boulder in our yard, and begin playing. Kids in the neighborhood would be drawn to the sound--one by one, they'd stop playing whatever game it was they were involved in, and slowly walk over. They'd sit on the grass and listen, transfixed. He'd begin singing old country songs, kids' songs (a favorite was "She's Got Freckles on Her But She's Pretty"), hymns, anything that came to mind. And we absorbed every bit of it, taking it all in, singing along, having no idea how much our lives were enriched because of it. We just knew it felt good to sing. We knew it made us happy, and that was enough.

Later, that translated to my playing the same guitar, which my father gave me when I turned 15. I wasn't very good, but I didn't know that, and it's good that no one told me, or I'd have given up. I just knew time got erased when I listened to albums over and over again and tried to imitate what I heard. I didn't know a lick of theory and didn't want to. All I wanted was to create that feeling I got when music comes from the rough-edged, deep-down place that folk and gospel and blues come from. There's a beauty in those rough edges. When they get wiped clean and polished down through too much training and striving for perfection, the songs become empty. It's a different tradition from the classical one and needs to be treated as such, I think. I played and played, and sang and sang, and eventually got good enough so that one time, one of my sisters walked into my room to ask who was singing on the radio. You'd have thought I'd just been given the world.

So how do we keep the rough-edged, deep down place intact, yet still sound good? And what constitutes "good"? There has to be a happy medium somewhere. I guess it just comes from singing and singing and listening and singing some more, and having someone with more experience give us nudges here and there to help us do a little better, the way the adults did when we were kids and everyone sang together. I don't think it comes from reading music, not in gospel anyway. But these are the kinds of things I want to find out from Sister Alice Martin. How does a "real" gospel choir learn and sing together? Is there one way or many? And how in the world do you teach those elusive harmonies that not even musicologists could begin to notate when they transcribed the songs they heard slaves singing?

I was talking about this with Deacon Randy Green last fall. He's been singing with different configurations of Boston's Silverleaf Gospel Singers for 60 years now. I think he knows a little something about gospel music. I asked if he and his colleagues would be interested in coming up to Maine to teach us some of what they knew. The rich harmonies they use are mesmerizing, and our group really wants to learn how to sing like that. He looked at me apologetically and said, "But we don't know any musical theory." I almost fell over. His group won the New England Conservatory's Lifetime Achievement Award. And yet he still feels inadequate. Where in the world was he given that message? I told him that in my experience, there was no better way to learn than to just listen and sing what you hear. He said he'd done that all his life, so he guessed he could teach that. I said Amen.

This coming week, Carolyn and I will be part of another singing family. We'll listen and sing what we hear and ask lots of questions and see what Sister Alice Martin has to say. Stay tuned...

Rock My Soul CD Is Now Available Online!

Today, I read 5 comments about Rock My Soul's new CD, and I'm thrilled to say they're really positive! (Check out the comments section following our May 27 post if you want to read them firsthand.) A big and heartfelt thanks to all who took the time to write and say such nice things.

This reminds me that I need to notify fans that they can now order the CDs online. Just go to the Gospel Music Project web site (link is above and in the sidebar section to the right). All instructions are there. CD Baby also has CDs, and they're currently processing them for ordering. Stay tuned for a notice about when they're ready. We're also working on getting them into stores for distribution and will let you know about that too.

Again, thanks to those of you who took the time to comment. It really means a lot to know all the hard work was worth it! I can't think of a much better feeling than the one I get when I read that the music brings our listeners so much joy.

In good faith,
Dawn

The Secret Codes of Spirituals

When I ask the question, "How many know the song 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot?'" at gospel music workshops, all hands usually raise. Most of us are familiar with the song because we sang it in church or school or have heard it sung in movies; most of us love it. But when I follow that question with, "'How many know that the song is a message to slaves about the Underground Railroad?'" I'm lucky if one or two hands go up. That tells me everything I need to know about how important it is not to let the history of gospel music get lost.

For me, much of the beauty and power behind spirituals is in their underlying, coded messages. Slaves not only used their music to endure excruciating hardship, they created a beautiful form of art that helped them triumph over it. It was the glue of their community, a bond that couldn't be broken. From it, they gained strength and sustenance. Through their cleverness, they also managed to give one another tips about escape routes, and in turn, they changed our entire country for the better, not just once, but twice. The beauty of their music astonished and captivated abolitionists. It made emancipation possible and, finally, real. And then, 100 years later, it helped win the struggle for Civil Rights. Make no mistake; like any great art, the music of the slaves is a powerful force for change and enlightenment. I say "is," because it still helps anyone who sings it or listens to it. We owe a great debt to African Americans for giving us such a rich cultural gift.

Let's talk about "Swing Low" for a moment as an example. In particular, let's talk about Harriet Tubman's connection to the song. As many know, Tubman was the spearheader for and backbone of the Underground Railroad, that network of people and place who made escape from slavery possible. Her own back was scarred from many whippings from many masters. Uneducated, partially deaf from a beating, missing her front teeth, and narcoleptic, this amazing woman had the strength and cunning to shepherd thousands of slaves to freedom. And not one of them under her watch was ever caught. Her guile earned her the respected titles of "General Tubman" and "Moses." Her friends called her "Old Chariot." A chariot, to slaves, was any means of transportation that could take them North to freedom. As Robert Darden states in his very good book People Get Ready, when slaves sang:
I looked over Jordan and what did I see,
Coming for to carry me home,
A band of angels coming after me,
Coming for to carry me home
"the 'band of angels' was Tubman or another conductor, leading them to freedom." (95)

The Jordan was also a name for the Ohio River, which slaves crossed to freedom. And the swinging low was a way to describe the rocking motion of a train, the metaphor for escape.

Darden also states that Tubman expressed victories and every major experience through the songs we now know of as spirituals. In addition to "Swing Low," her other "signature" song was "Go Down, Moses," which has the distinction of being the first spiritual pusblished with music in the United States. If you don't know the song, do look up the lyrics or try to get a copy to listen to. (Louis Armstrong does a great version.) It encapsulates the slaves' way of interpreting biblical stories to illuminate their own struggles and determination to be free.

On her deathbed, with two ministers and a friend present, Tubman reportedly conducted her own funeral service and closed it by singing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." She died on March 10, 1913, but the profound ramifications of her work in this world still reverberate. About 7 years ago, I lived near Auburn NY, where Tubman spent her last years. I used to drive by her simple home and imagine her sitting on the porch or serving dinner inside to others who so desperately needed sustenance and hope to hang onto. It inspired me. Not everyone can drive by Tubman's home every day the way I used to, but when we next sing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," we can think of her and how much she gave to so many. It makes the song that much richer.

Rock My Soul Gospel Choir CD Coming!

A lot of our fans are saying we need a blog to let people know what's happening on the gospel music front in New England (here it is, fans!). And the biggest, best, most exciting news we have today is that we shipped off the CD master and graphics files for Rock My Soul's eponymous first album. Yes! It should arrive by June 7, in time to make its debut on June 10 at our CD Release Concert. The CD contains 11 songs, all done in Rock My Soul's unique, raise-the-rafters old-time style. The album has a rootsy feel. What we're after is old school--bringing back the songs many have forgotten or don't know about, and recording them with as authentic a sound as possible (and telling the stories behind some of them so people can appreciate them more). We want our listeners to feel how gospel used to feel in what scholar Horace Clarence Boyer calls its "golden age," because there's nothing in the world like it.

For those who don't know Rock My Soul, definitely check us out if you're in the Seacoast NH / southern Maine / Boston and North Shore MA areas. We're a 25-member, nondenominational choir with members of all different faiths and belief systems, but with a common belief in and respect for gospel music and its heritage. We're also part of a nonprofit organization called the Gospel Music Project.

The CD release concert takes place on June 10 at 7 pm in Dover NH at the First Parish Church on 218 Central Avenue (it's the big brick church with the black clock in the steeple, right on the corner of Central Avenue and Silver Street). For ticket prices and details, visit www.gospelmusicproject.org.

On this blog, we'll be posting musings and info on what we've learned about gospel music's rich history and importance to our culture, as well as recommended CDs, DVDs, and books on gospel music. Readers will of course also learn a lot about what's going on behind the scenes of the GMP and Rock My Soul. We hope you'll post comments and give us feedback.