Another song from the "To the Sky" CD - live on Stoneham, MA TV. I get to sing the 2nd verse here! Wailing away...
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika
Blue of a Kind sings the South African National Anthem, in three languages! This song, the equivalent of God Bless America, was at one time illegal to sing under aparteheid.
Friday, March 27, 2009
It's Gonna Rain, Again
Blue of a Kind shows off another song from their new "To the Sky" CD, "It's Gonna Rain, Again".
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Linin' Track
New Blue of a Kind Video! Here's another video of a song we have recorded on our CD, "To the Sky". Check it out.
"To the Sky" is now available on our web site. Please visit www.blueofakind.org where you can see the gorgeous cover, preview every song on the CD, and even buy it!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
"Cosi Cosa"
What Does It Mean?
It's a wonderful word, tra la la la! I got to hear my new arrangement of this song sung for the first time tonight - front to back. Last fall, Polymnia Choral Society's director, Murray Kidd, asked me to arrange "Cosi Cosa" from "A Night At the Opera" for the "Pops" concert on June 6 at Memorial Hall in Melrose. Last year he asked me to arrange "Take Me Out To the Ball Game" and I stuck to what I knew - a cappella. This time, I incorporated the standard piano accompaniment from 1935 underneath the choir; why fight upstream?
Still, it was daunting taking on a piece with accompaniment. Piano is not my forte; pardon the pun. I took more than a few deep breaths sizing up this project. Once I got the piano score and began to work with it, I could see possibilities opening up.
But this was different. I began to picture our soloist, one of Boston's most outstanding voices, Brad Peloquin, pacing around the stage, gesturing wildly with an operatic chorus backing him supporting or punctuating his every line, sometimes trying to outdo him. My inner Italian spirit began to awaken and I let the three ring circus of the song take life. Yes, some parts of the song are my classic a cappella style - the choir has to sing, after all. But sometimes, they just embellish and sing more freely and do silly stuff.
Three days listening to Mario Lanza, lots of espresso lattes and trying to feel what Mr. Lanza was going for, and eventually the picture begins to come into focus. More weeks of stewing and rework, and finally a pass by the director for some suggestions and changes (it's a tenor solo for Brad Peloquin, you idiot!), more stewing and rework and then it just seemed right.
Tonight I heard some really awesome singers begin to sing it under a director who knows how to work a song. Yes, it will do; it will really do!! It will be a three ring circus that makes Brad Peloquin look like a happy, mad genius. "Cosi Cosa!! Get together and sing tra-la-la-la!" Oh, and we shall!
It's a wonderful word, tra la la la! I got to hear my new arrangement of this song sung for the first time tonight - front to back. Last fall, Polymnia Choral Society's director, Murray Kidd, asked me to arrange "Cosi Cosa" from "A Night At the Opera" for the "Pops" concert on June 6 at Memorial Hall in Melrose. Last year he asked me to arrange "Take Me Out To the Ball Game" and I stuck to what I knew - a cappella. This time, I incorporated the standard piano accompaniment from 1935 underneath the choir; why fight upstream?
Still, it was daunting taking on a piece with accompaniment. Piano is not my forte; pardon the pun. I took more than a few deep breaths sizing up this project. Once I got the piano score and began to work with it, I could see possibilities opening up.
The more they opened up, the more I stretched and began to just have fun within the medium. The singers did not have to do all the work; they were suddenly freer, in my mind, to disengage and do frivolous and fun things. In truth, they really should always be free! I have a tendency to keep every voice busy, creating harmony and singing pleasing lines. "Take Me Out To the Ball Game" was classic in this regard. The calliope starts in measure one and every voice works hard to keep the machine pumping along until the tension breaking denoument, ala Carly Simon.
It Could Mean Yes, It Could Mean No
But this was different. I began to picture our soloist, one of Boston's most outstanding voices, Brad Peloquin, pacing around the stage, gesturing wildly with an operatic chorus backing him supporting or punctuating his every line, sometimes trying to outdo him. My inner Italian spirit began to awaken and I let the three ring circus of the song take life. Yes, some parts of the song are my classic a cappella style - the choir has to sing, after all. But sometimes, they just embellish and sing more freely and do silly stuff.
Three days listening to Mario Lanza, lots of espresso lattes and trying to feel what Mr. Lanza was going for, and eventually the picture begins to come into focus. More weeks of stewing and rework, and finally a pass by the director for some suggestions and changes (it's a tenor solo for Brad Peloquin, you idiot!), more stewing and rework and then it just seemed right.
Proof Is In the Pudding
Tonight I heard some really awesome singers begin to sing it under a director who knows how to work a song. Yes, it will do; it will really do!! It will be a three ring circus that makes Brad Peloquin look like a happy, mad genius. "Cosi Cosa!! Get together and sing tra-la-la-la!" Oh, and we shall!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The 70th Bacchanal of the Society of Orpheus and Bacchus
Celebrating 70 Years of Music and Fun
The Society of Orpheus and Bacchus is in their 70th year. This "Bacchanal" is nothing more than their annual anniversary party and reunion. This year's event was held last weekend and was a tremendous success. The young men have regained their footing both in song and humor. The repertoire spans many years, with diverse styles and still stays on a high choral plane. The guys sing! And they can structure a delightful weekend event that appeals to all the men who returned.
The "lost" Songbook was not lost!
In past blogs I've mentioned the SOB Songbook and told a story about it going lost in 1972. At the Bacchanal last weekend, I met with my successor Orpheus from 1972, and a few other guys who knew his successor and we established the lost "Songbook" was nothing more than a rumor. Mind you, this is not a proper book we're talking about but rather a box of manuscripts. As the director changes nearly every year, the box is passed from one to the next. One of the reasons I got deeply involved in the Whiffenpoof, SOB and Bakers Dozen Songbook projects was that I had been told that the SOB songbook had gone lost after I'd passed it to my successor. This is apparently not the case. Nonetheless, I had felt some guilt over the last 10 years and I had begun working to restore the "lost" and moldering music.
So, the "lost" Songbook story is a tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing! How do these stories get started? I guess there seemed to be no other reasonable explanation why the music had changed so dramatically over the years and why so many songs had gone missing. It covered a truth that archival management over the years was at best shoddy. How could this be? I don't really know. If there was no mass extinction event, then maybe pieces were savaged by the occasional homework-eating dog, blown away by a gust of wind or they were tossed out from time to time. There were no holes in the box.
Poor Record Management
I've been through the Songbooks of 3 Yale groups now, so I've seen a few things. The Whiffenpoofs did a better job keeping their records, but they were not perfect. Songs went lost. The BD and the SOBs did not do quite so well. Stuff that seemed meaningful was copied, sometimes embellished and updated for better or for worse, and the originals discarded. Sometimes it was so completely "rearranged" it was simply co-opted by the editor. And, it looks as if stuff was simply pruned by guys whose heads were up their egos. What does this do to the guys who sang those songs 30 or more years ago? Nothing good.
Rule of thumb was if you arranged for the group, you donated your work and expected that if it was sung, it would be archived. Unwritten rule for the director: what is in the box at the beginning of your term should still be in the box at the end. But that is not the way it went down.
Weaving the Old with the New
So now groups like the Bakers Dozen and the SOBs are turning 'round about 70 years old. In large part, their founders and older members feel alienated and forgotten. Their music has moldered away, gone lost or worse, it was discarded. Many guys from the 40's, 50's and 60's gave up returning for reunions with their groups because they don't recognize the music and the group doesn't recognize them. They can't sing the old songs with their buddies 'cause the music is missing.
We are men from many generations. We sing, love, laugh, graduate and move on. We retain our connection with an organization like a singing group through shared experience and values - in this case the singing and the fun. The group has a responsibility to innovate and compete. Every year, things change. The Old Men connect to the group through the music (which changes) and the fun (which can also change culturally). They also connect from a sense of having been there to hold the fort, keep the tradition alive and keep the group competitive in their era. These are very important values, what I call "connection vectors". We connect along these vectors and we can disconnect along these same vectors.
Disrupt these vectors, and members feel disassociated from the organization. The fact that the music changes is expected. If the culture of the fun changes significantly, guys will pull away. When the group reunites, they must find a way to affirm the contribution and the culture of all of the alumni. The group must be able to see that the guys over all the years have basically been doing the same thing. If songs from the past are lost or forgotten, it is a rough road ahead. Old Men ask: You don't know what we sang? You don't have my name on the list? You don't know what we did to make this group great?
Once disassociated, they generally don't come back.
Bringing 'em Back
At the 70th Bacchanal, we had about 70 attendees. Of these, 90% were from graduating classes within the last 35 years. Virtually nobody came from the first 35 years of the group's existence. Nobody really knows why and when all your own friends are there, nobody really cares, an attitude which is very much at the root cause of the problem. The last time I went to one of these events, I saw that the culture of fun had changed so drastically that I did not identify with the group. Many of my classmates saw the same thing and vowed never to return. Last weekend, a small group of us ventured back into the water with some trepidation and saw that the culture of fun is much the same as it had been for us. It's sophomoric, wacky, edgy and obviously up-to-date, but it still looks and feels like "us." This was a pleasant surprise. Members from the 80's and 90's still cannot understand how we don't know songs arranged 10 or more years after we graduated - to them these songs seem to have existed forever. Oh well!
For the Bakers Dozen, the problem is apparently worse than for the SOBs. I have letters from some of the founders of the BD, similar letters from fellow SOBs, all saying the same thing - how they want to reconnect but their experience has taught them they are forgotten and unwanted. The SOBs are unique in having a core repertoire of seemingly timeless music by some of the most phenomenal arrangers spanning nearly the whole history of the group. The BD have this too, but it's buried deeper in the past and has lost any meaning for several generations. It will be difficult to recreate a touchstone.
At the Bacchanal concert, I was lucky to bump into the father of this year's Pitchpipe. We sat next to one another and enjoyed the program. It turns out this man, Larry, was a classmate of mine and was "rushed" by the SOBs along with me when we were Freshmen. We had a few rush lunches together in 1969. Larry joined the BD and I joined the O's and B's. We sang in competing groups for the next 3 years. Earlier in the day, his son had told me about one of those concerts which had really bugged his father. He told me not knowing it was my group and my arrangement that had achieved something that night no other act could top and which had ticked his father off. Larry is one of the top arrangers for the BD from the early 70's and his group had talent with a capital 'T'. As last weekend's Bacchanal performance proceeded, he asked me how many of the songs I recognized from my day. In truth, there were quite a few. Some of them still had the power to move people to tears, wild screams or belly laughs. Larry was amazed at this. I think by now he realizes he's connected to the SOBs for life, the last thing he ever thought would happen to him!
The Society of Orpheus and Bacchus is in their 70th year. This "Bacchanal" is nothing more than their annual anniversary party and reunion. This year's event was held last weekend and was a tremendous success. The young men have regained their footing both in song and humor. The repertoire spans many years, with diverse styles and still stays on a high choral plane. The guys sing! And they can structure a delightful weekend event that appeals to all the men who returned.
The "lost" Songbook was not lost!
In past blogs I've mentioned the SOB Songbook and told a story about it going lost in 1972. At the Bacchanal last weekend, I met with my successor Orpheus from 1972, and a few other guys who knew his successor and we established the lost "Songbook" was nothing more than a rumor. Mind you, this is not a proper book we're talking about but rather a box of manuscripts. As the director changes nearly every year, the box is passed from one to the next. One of the reasons I got deeply involved in the Whiffenpoof, SOB and Bakers Dozen Songbook projects was that I had been told that the SOB songbook had gone lost after I'd passed it to my successor. This is apparently not the case. Nonetheless, I had felt some guilt over the last 10 years and I had begun working to restore the "lost" and moldering music.
So, the "lost" Songbook story is a tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing! How do these stories get started? I guess there seemed to be no other reasonable explanation why the music had changed so dramatically over the years and why so many songs had gone missing. It covered a truth that archival management over the years was at best shoddy. How could this be? I don't really know. If there was no mass extinction event, then maybe pieces were savaged by the occasional homework-eating dog, blown away by a gust of wind or they were tossed out from time to time. There were no holes in the box.
Poor Record Management
I've been through the Songbooks of 3 Yale groups now, so I've seen a few things. The Whiffenpoofs did a better job keeping their records, but they were not perfect. Songs went lost. The BD and the SOBs did not do quite so well. Stuff that seemed meaningful was copied, sometimes embellished and updated for better or for worse, and the originals discarded. Sometimes it was so completely "rearranged" it was simply co-opted by the editor. And, it looks as if stuff was simply pruned by guys whose heads were up their egos. What does this do to the guys who sang those songs 30 or more years ago? Nothing good.
Rule of thumb was if you arranged for the group, you donated your work and expected that if it was sung, it would be archived. Unwritten rule for the director: what is in the box at the beginning of your term should still be in the box at the end. But that is not the way it went down.
Weaving the Old with the New
So now groups like the Bakers Dozen and the SOBs are turning 'round about 70 years old. In large part, their founders and older members feel alienated and forgotten. Their music has moldered away, gone lost or worse, it was discarded. Many guys from the 40's, 50's and 60's gave up returning for reunions with their groups because they don't recognize the music and the group doesn't recognize them. They can't sing the old songs with their buddies 'cause the music is missing.
We are men from many generations. We sing, love, laugh, graduate and move on. We retain our connection with an organization like a singing group through shared experience and values - in this case the singing and the fun. The group has a responsibility to innovate and compete. Every year, things change. The Old Men connect to the group through the music (which changes) and the fun (which can also change culturally). They also connect from a sense of having been there to hold the fort, keep the tradition alive and keep the group competitive in their era. These are very important values, what I call "connection vectors". We connect along these vectors and we can disconnect along these same vectors.
Disrupt these vectors, and members feel disassociated from the organization. The fact that the music changes is expected. If the culture of the fun changes significantly, guys will pull away. When the group reunites, they must find a way to affirm the contribution and the culture of all of the alumni. The group must be able to see that the guys over all the years have basically been doing the same thing. If songs from the past are lost or forgotten, it is a rough road ahead. Old Men ask: You don't know what we sang? You don't have my name on the list? You don't know what we did to make this group great?
Once disassociated, they generally don't come back.
Bringing 'em Back
At the 70th Bacchanal, we had about 70 attendees. Of these, 90% were from graduating classes within the last 35 years. Virtually nobody came from the first 35 years of the group's existence. Nobody really knows why and when all your own friends are there, nobody really cares, an attitude which is very much at the root cause of the problem. The last time I went to one of these events, I saw that the culture of fun had changed so drastically that I did not identify with the group. Many of my classmates saw the same thing and vowed never to return. Last weekend, a small group of us ventured back into the water with some trepidation and saw that the culture of fun is much the same as it had been for us. It's sophomoric, wacky, edgy and obviously up-to-date, but it still looks and feels like "us." This was a pleasant surprise. Members from the 80's and 90's still cannot understand how we don't know songs arranged 10 or more years after we graduated - to them these songs seem to have existed forever. Oh well!
For the Bakers Dozen, the problem is apparently worse than for the SOBs. I have letters from some of the founders of the BD, similar letters from fellow SOBs, all saying the same thing - how they want to reconnect but their experience has taught them they are forgotten and unwanted. The SOBs are unique in having a core repertoire of seemingly timeless music by some of the most phenomenal arrangers spanning nearly the whole history of the group. The BD have this too, but it's buried deeper in the past and has lost any meaning for several generations. It will be difficult to recreate a touchstone.
At the Bacchanal concert, I was lucky to bump into the father of this year's Pitchpipe. We sat next to one another and enjoyed the program. It turns out this man, Larry, was a classmate of mine and was "rushed" by the SOBs along with me when we were Freshmen. We had a few rush lunches together in 1969. Larry joined the BD and I joined the O's and B's. We sang in competing groups for the next 3 years. Earlier in the day, his son had told me about one of those concerts which had really bugged his father. He told me not knowing it was my group and my arrangement that had achieved something that night no other act could top and which had ticked his father off. Larry is one of the top arrangers for the BD from the early 70's and his group had talent with a capital 'T'. As last weekend's Bacchanal performance proceeded, he asked me how many of the songs I recognized from my day. In truth, there were quite a few. Some of them still had the power to move people to tears, wild screams or belly laughs. Larry was amazed at this. I think by now he realizes he's connected to the SOBs for life, the last thing he ever thought would happen to him!
Put it Back In the Box!
We SOBs have a big job to do - we need to reach into the first 35 years of what our forefathers did, shake trees and find anything we can and put it back in the box. We need to extend our reach, and set a table for those Old Men, so they'll come and reconnect. We need to embrace them when they return. It's a huge task, and one that won't see 100% success. My hope is that the process of reaching back over the years will reengage alumni along the connection vectors and we'll see some serious representation of the first 35 years of this group at the 75th Bacchanal in 2014.
We SOBs have a big job to do - we need to reach into the first 35 years of what our forefathers did, shake trees and find anything we can and put it back in the box. We need to extend our reach, and set a table for those Old Men, so they'll come and reconnect. We need to embrace them when they return. It's a huge task, and one that won't see 100% success. My hope is that the process of reaching back over the years will reengage alumni along the connection vectors and we'll see some serious representation of the first 35 years of this group at the 75th Bacchanal in 2014.
~Bob
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