Between Schmaltz and Substance (or how I learned to stop hating Sir John Rutter and love the bomb)

A whimsical title beginning a reflection on the relationship (or lack of relationship) between Schmaltz and Substance - and detailing my experience of John Rutter over the past several days.

THURSDAY - I arrived early at George Mason University's Fairfax campus to register for the ACDA "Voices United" Conference with special guest director John Rutter. "Registration" consisted of picking up my name tag as I had filled out my application and sent in my check months ago. Also, before I left for Europe, I received the music we were going to sing in the mail, the most important piece being John Rutter's "Mass of the Children" which is a concert Mass he wrote for mixed chorus, children's choir, soprano and baritone soloists and chamber orchestra. The rehearsal began at 4 PM with an introduction from the chairman for this event, which was sponsored by three different ACDA chapters, after which we went to different rooms for sectional rehearsals. This lasted about an hour and then we came back to the original room for a full rehearsal which lasted another hour.

We were released for dinner from 6-7 PM. I had to buy something at the food court on campus. It consisted of about six fast food restaurants. All were closed except a Chinese place and an Indian place. I tried the food at the Indian place and it was surprisingly good.

After dinner we had a two hour rehearsal with Dr. James Bingham, who currently is Director of Choral Activities at Columbia Union College in Maryland. If you want to get an idea of what James Bingham is like, my dear Christendom Choristers, think of an older, taller Australian version of me. He was tough, very particular but, in the end, got a very good sound out of us.

[Found myself sitting behind a teenage boy with the most incredibly beautiful golden highlights in his hair. What some women would kill for, this rather ordinary pimply-faced boy seemed to have by nature. Odd observation I know, but there it was right in front of me for two hours. (Don't worry, I haven't turned into Gustav Aschenbach yet.)]

FRIDAY - We rehearsed for six hours. Three hours in the morning at GMU, and then three hours in the afternoon at the site of the concert, Vienna Presbyterian Church. It is funny in that from the opening of the conference on Thursday we had been prepared for THE MAN (Rutter) as if he were royalty. The first people referring to him reverently as "Sir John" - although I am not sure how accurate this is. He did receive the "CBE" (Commander of the British Empire?) Award in 2007 from the queen, but I don't know if such a person gets to be called "sir." And James Bingham, who is a good friend, never referred to him that way, but he certainly added to the mystique in other ways, saying things like, "Oh, don't ever let John Rutter catch you not looking up when he cues you," etc. He had us scared.

Another thing I learned was that, in the festival choir, my section (Bass I) seemed to be made up of a few men my age, a number of rather shy high school to college age students, and then a whole bunch of naughty old men who clearly had not learned their part and had all sorts of bad singing habits. I was disappointed as I had not had as much time to prepare as I would have liked, assuming that I would be the weakest link in the chain of a top-notch section of other choral directors who had thoroughly learned the part. I thought I would be able to lean on them. That wasn't to be.

I was right next to one of those shy young men, probably 18-20 years old. He seemed to have a decent voice. He also reminded me of a young Elvis Presley, both in his looks, his manner, and his speech. He didn't have the hickish Southern accent of Front Royal, but the more melifluous accent and polite (almost courtly) manners Elvis was capable of at times. "Yes suh. Wah ahd be greatly ahnud, Col. Pahkuh." I found that if I sang out (someone needed to take the lead) AND leaned slightly in this young man's direction, he would sing out quite strongly, too. So, Elvis and I ended up leading the baritones and Dr. Bingham seemed quite pleased.

John Rutter arrived around 3 PM. He was a short, very thin man, in his early sixties, who seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet a lot. He wasn't tough at all. I am not saying he was no good, he seemed quite competent, but the vast majority of the preparatory work had been done by Dr. Bingham and the others who had run the sectionals. All that was left for "Sir John" to do was add a few finishing touches. (I wish I had assistants to do all the major preparatory work with a choir, while I was off having a martini.) In other words, Bingham got to be the "Dutch uncle," while Rutter was the "fun uncle."

SATURDAY - I got to hear the children's choir for the first time. They were exceptionally good. Very well prepared. About 100 of them, maybe 10 of whom were boys. (That's another matter. There need to be boy choirs, or else boys won't join. It becomes a "girl's thing." Major mistake to insist on "inclusive" children's choirs only, because boys end up being excluded.) Final rehearsals went well and it was a joy rehearsing with the orchestra (very professional) and with the organ (a three manual Schantz with a French console). Performance went very well. (Incidentally, the festival choir was made up of about 140 voices) This brings me to briefly discuss the music.

I had sung a few of Rutter's anthems in the past and ended up referring to them as "Men and Boy Pop," and "Anglican Cathedral Light" because of their combination of the Anglican choral sound with rather light, treacly-sounding music. I have listened to more of his music since then and have found that his longer works (e.g. "The Mass of the Children") are definitely better - there is more substance. I suppose these pieces of his could be compared to those of some of the Romantic composers, who tried to combine music of strong (sometimes overdrawn) emotion and musical craftsmanship. He gets closer to such pieces. I still don't think he gets all the way there. (I have also listened to some of his other anthems and found them to be even more treacly than the ones I knew - they were the worst sort of elevator muzak.)

I walked away from the concert thinking that, at its best, his music was "schmaltz for the thinking man" or "intelligent music for schmaltzmeisters." At any rate, what should the relationship between "schmaltz and substance" be or, better yet, between emotion and intellect in music? In any art?