Mirror, mirror on the wall, Tell me: Am I Looking Up at All?...Going beyond the notes
- shu
- Apr 18
- 8 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
Learning the music is one thing; performing it is a whole other
I think we all know or are getting to know our music rather well. But, if you are like me, you will continue to study your score, to secure pitches, intervals, rhythms, articulations, dynamics, Latin pronunciation, voicing to bring forward the part that is most interesting, and reliable vocal technique. Learning the music is our bread and butter.
With a piece as rich as Mozart Requiem, the discovery process, in which we can find, hear, and see things in the music we hadn’t seen or heard before, is ongoing, and for me, happens, amazingly, every time I study my music. New mysteries in the music reveal themselves, yielding gifts as a reward for time spent with the music. One uncovers its pictorial, depictive tone painting; melodic beauty; harmonic riches and surprises; and the many thematic connections between movements that make the music cohere, with all it’s contrasts and varied dramatizations. A chord will take my breath away; a transition between movements so beautiful that i cry with pleasure; a dramatic moment more stunning than ever before.
Singing, not from reading, but from knowing what's coming in the music before it arrives.
To acquire such surety that I can deliver a performance, no matter what (more of that later) requires being in the moment and in the future, at the same time. What we are aiming for by doing this is a two-pronged outcome: musical ensemble accuracy and performance contagion.
In your own daily practice of the Requiem, from now until performance, spend time in front of a mirror, every practice session. To be very clear: i suggest mirror-time for one straightforward reason: so that you yourself can check, "Am I looking up BEFORE every entry"? It is not so that you try to show the character of the music. And why to do this? so that you are in sync with the baton and the ensemble, rhythmically, and so that you signal, to yourself, to the conductor, to your section mates, to the audience, "Here and hear this entry."
It is also uncomfortable — speaking from personal experience — to face oneself in the mirror, especially oneself in action. Somehow, we have little idea of how we look. And it's a little shocking to find out. We are our own worst critic, so be kind to yourself in your mirror work. It is more effective and more comfortable to do this work in private. And it’s so worth it! None of us is, or has to be, perfect. Changing a habit takes time and repetition. If you start this work, I wager your performance experience will be enhanced, FOR YOU, for the ensemble, and for the audience!
A word from where i stand: I would MUCH rather work on the music, than be chiding choristers for not watching for cues. But, if i give a cue, or want to give a cue, and i cannot get your attention, what is the point of the cue? Then I'm drawn into a tangle with a choristers to persuade, cajole, insist that they look. it is the only part of choral conducting I dislike. I don't want to be a school marm. But i need you with me. So, please, do this work yourself.
Make an entry
Ask yourself and your mirror (who will help you answer): "Mirror, mirror, on the wall...."
Does my posture say: "Here, audience, is something so beautiful that you will be moved beyond yourself."
(Not a question for the mirror): Can I audiate—hear internally—the opening of each movement before I sing, and what is my descriptor word i can call up, that captures the mood of the movement before it starts?
Am I singing from listening or from looking?
If one is singing from listening, one is almost certainly entering late; whereas singing from looking gives one a chance to be with the baton.
This provides the very necessary rhythmic security of the ensemble (vide the Kyrie, Cum Sanctis, Quam Olim Abrahae, Rex Tremendae canon, Tartarus fugato)—IOW: all the fugal writing, in which it is essential to be metronomic, and as accurate and reliable as a Swiss watch.
Am I looking up (from the score) for the cue for every entrance of my part?
There's the musical aspect of the entrance being unified (rhythmically, at least).
There’s a show and tell aspect—signaling to the audience which voice part is entering at a particular moment and has the most/key musical interest in that moment. This might seem non-musical, even theatrical (in a bad sense), but if you were an audience member who had never listened to the Requiem, or listened casually—in short, who does not know the intricacies of the score—wouldn't you want all the cues you could get to direct your attention to where the main action is?
Am I looking up for the orchestral introduction?
So that I am in the groove and convey that mood.
Am I looking up for the shown phrase-shaping and climax?
So that i can contribute to these swells and eddies.
Am I looking up for any special in-the-moment cues?
So that i'm included in the spontaneous magic moments.
Am I looking up for every end of phrase and cut-off?
So there are no dangling hissy "ss"s, for example.
Am I keeping the mood we have created at the end of every movement, by standing still, not blinking, not moving?
A very important part of performance, requires no singing, and feels great!
Am I contributing to the drama of the transitions from one movement to the next eg. Confutatis into Lacrymosa.
More silent fulfillment!
When and how should I turn (the page) to the next movement and when should i not, so that my page turns maintain the mood?
A technicality that can make or break the mood of the whole ensemble.
Is my focus on the music (that is happening, not the printed score in which i have paper-clipped the pages of the solo movements) throughout the solo movements?
All of this can be summarized in one pithy injunction: Look UP
This modus, of looking up rather than being glued to the book, will give each chorister confidence, will go a long way to unifying the ensemble, and will contribute to the choir's musical crispness, and performance poise. Looking up, I wager, will help everyone feel more comfortable, committed, musical, and unified.
Being able to look up means singing in one moment and knowing at the same time of what is coming in the next. It requires being both in the present and in the future, at the same time. What we want is to look up from the score so that we are looking at the conductor/baton BEFORE the next entry, by at least one beat, more, depending on tempo, mood, and what precedes the entry.
Inhabiting the character of the music
Inhabit = in-habit.
Get in the habit of...singing every entry watching the conductor.
Aside from and in addition to looking up, I encourage you, choristers, to be method actors: Acting is not fakery. It is inhabiting a rôle, going out of who we are as our regular often peevish selves, to become a vessel for the music, AND a fully contributing part of the ensemble that can then cultivate its poise, polish, and personality. And why do this? So that the music lives in you and that you live in the music.
It is more than enough, and totally wonderful, if you method act the part of a fully confident, know-my-music, i-am-an integral-and-important-part-of-this-ensemble singer, and i am going to deliver the music to our audience with all my heart and mind and soul.
Find the meaning or import of the text and the impact of the music— on yourself; articulate this in a descriptor word, one for each movement; inhabit the character of the music; and then, and this is the very important step that we choristers often do not take, deliver this to the audience. This is our job, our rôle. How lucky we are that, in doing this work, we get the benefit of it and feel the immense fulfillment of it ourselves.
Being an actor means i have internalized the character, for myself, and i will show that character in the subtlest of ways, without having to "put on" an expression. It means inhabiting a mood, a gesture in the music, a suggestion of affect. It does not mean mimicking Shulamit's expressions.
In short, what we are after is this: Inhabit the demeanor of professionally trained choirs. You don't need to emote, you just need to deliver!
For the folks who performed at CSM: After being sick almost the whole of the night before, I was feeling very weak the morning of our performance. I had had little sleep, i had discomfort (meaning pain), I was debilitated, and I thought: "the last thing I want or I can do is lead the choir. I just want to go home (450 miles away) and go to bed." I put on my tux, and said to myself: “Just do your job, Shulamit.” I would wager none of you knew i was under the weather during the performance or pre-prep because I was being an actor. The tux said, "Conduct!" What I am asking you all to do is what I did: Be an actor—for the occasion, for the music, for Mozart, for the audience, and, wonderfully, also, for yourself. Our work as performers fulfills not only our audience, but we ourselves, in magical but real ways.
Ensemble
For the ensemble to be an ensemble, not just a collective of singers, everyone needs to be on the same figurative page: Everyone should feel comfortable with how and how much they are out-putting. If one person is over-acting ("look at ME!") and another person is under-acting ("please DON't look at me"), both are equally distracting. We might need a little check up when the ensemble is all together in rehearsal. That will be easily done, a tweak or two, not difficult, and also fun, if everyone has done a little mirror work on their own.
What I think we all want from the experience of performing, at least this is what I know I want, is transformation; where something out of the ordinary, exquisite, beautiful, magical, spiritual, profound, word-less, happens in the performance that makes the moment unique and special, and in some way, puts each of us in touch with our higher selves. The act of performing the music can take us beyond the pull and tug of daily life, beyond the humdrum, the ho-hum, the difficulties, and the despair of the everyday, and brings us fully into our deepest and most human and most loving and lovable selves. If we can do this for ourselves, we will surely move our audience. Emotional contagion is what Leo Tolstoy called it. Inhabit the music and be an integral, fully contributory member of the ensemble. It’s a wonderful way to rise up. In a way, it is perhaps why all of us have signed up to sing at Carnegie!
Inspiration
Here is some inspiration for you specifically for the choristers' compelling commitment to be with the conductor: Simon Bolivar Symphony Orchestra of Venezuela and Simon Bolivar National Youth Choir of Venezuela performing Mozart Requiem. Every performer is on fire —AND disciplined, musicianly! The commitment of the choristers moves me to tears and gives me hope for humanity!
A very different kind of performance, also compelling because of the singers' full engagement.
All of the recordings, audio or video, listed in the post https://www.vivalamusica.org/post/mozart-requiem-recordingsare are worth your time. Of course, you will like some more than others. My favorite changes every week!
Yours in the music,
Shulamit
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