What a weekend! Don Gooding's presentation on the history of college a cappella was a perfect way to begin the weekend. He traced the explosion of college a cappella, which grew slowly and steadily its first 70 years with Yale singing serving as the birthplace and pantheon. The slow burn has turned into something of a wildfire the last 20--30 years, as the seeds were planted by Yalies and children of Yalies across the country. In 1919 there were 3 collegiate a cappella groups while today there are in excess of 1700! Most of that growth has taken place since the 1980's.
The Marathon Concert
The Woolsey hall concert saw group after group perform into the wee hours. In some ways it seemed not entirely fair to the 2009 and 2010 Whiffenpoof groups to be left to cap the show when many of the audience had not enough stamina to stay past midnight. But the parade of groups was amazing - guys stood up with their brothers and delivered their best all night long.
Record Turnout
Of the 800 or so living Whiffenpoofs, somewhere around 600 attended the weekend. Everyone was on hand for the Saturday dinner, ceremonial awards, singing and merry making. I was honored for the work preserving the almighty songbook and was publicly reminded there are only 534 more songs to engrave. I guess I have a ways to go for the Yale Medal or even the Whiffenpoof Cup. Truly it was an immense honor. A special quartet was composed for the occasion with a verse about Charlie Buck and Bob Birge and me - the songbook team. I still want that medal - I figure with something like that a fellow could wear it under his shirt. Then, if and when Mory's reopens, a fellow could open his shirt and get a free drink or two for himself and his buddies. Seems like a reasonable plan, doesn't it?
As the dinner proceeded, conductor emeritus, Sgt. Burke led us in song, but apparently there was not enough public singing. Guys stood on chairs and directed songs with their comrades, songs that swept over the hall like firestorms. Groups formed and serenaded others. Speeches were made and there was much that had to be said, but heck, why don't we just sing some more???
Meeting "The Man"
As the dinner wound down, I walked to the other end of the Commons in search of Lewis Girdler, class of 1961, who is one of the most important musical forces in Whiffdom, and in collegiate a cappella. I've mentioned him before in this blog talking about engraving music from his Bakers Dozen days as well as his seminal influence on a cappella singing. This man changed the sound and direction of this style of music in his 4 years at Yale and probably contributed to the aforementioned explosion of collegiate a cappella singing more than any other individual. His ability to architect an arrangement is legendary, but he is also known for innovation. He may be the father of vocal instrumentation so prevalent in today's a cappella since he invented the "faux string bass" that changed the character of a cappella forever. It was an idea that was "in the air" - groups were toying with some way to create an instrumented sound to express the jazzy music they loved, but it was Lew that pushed it past the tipping point and changed the sound in a way akin to dropping a lit match on gasoline.
Lewis and I have written emails over the past couple of years, exchanged CDs and such, but we had never met. I found the tables where the '60's folks were dining and began asking if anyone knew where Lewis Girdler was. Why yes, he's right here! Suddenly I was shaking his hand and looking him in the eye. I even met his lovely wife and daughter. We talked briefly and I probably blathered what a great fan I am, but at least we connected.
Lewis has arranged two new songs for the Whiffenpoofs in the past year and he's going to send them to me for engraving. Hmmm, I guess that makes it 536 songs and counting.... Clearly my work will never end as long as my eyesight holds up. But I look forward to seeing these pieces.
Here's a YouTube taste of what it was like that night in the cavernous Freshman Commons, singing the Whiffenpoof Song to conclude the festivities:
"Too Young To Say Goodbye"
On other fronts: we truly launched Jeff Klitz's stunning "Too Young To Say Goodbye". I can't say enough about this lovely composition that has a power over any old Whiff to evoke the magic bond we all share with our fellow songsters. One thing I would like to point out about this lovely arrangement - it is as harmonically rich as anything in the repertoire - plenty of color in the chords and as lovely as any of the best arrangements in our book. But there is not a single voice split. I discussed this with my '73 classmates at some length. Klitz stuck to the close harmony of our core tradition and made a song that was melodic, modern and colorful, yet completely rooted in plain old 4 part harmonizing. It's a song that's purely 21st Century, but one that is singable and will remain a joy to sing with one's buddies when coming together for reunions.
"I'll Be Seeing You"
Another stunning arrangement was introduced to everyone was one of the arrangements that stunned me when I was engraving song after song over the last two years. I wrote to Chuck Buck at the time, saying how I liked this particular piece and he replied, "Yeh, I thought you'd like that one". It's Chris Beck's, "I'll Be Seeing You". Again, this is a piece of great emotional power due in no small part to the wonderfully intense color of the chords. Here again is a piece that succeeds because the arranger is crafty enough to evoke a full color spectrum with four voices. Chris and Jeff know they don't have to spell out an entire jazz chord, splitting their voices into 6, 7 or 8 parts. One arrangement in the Whiff book actually has 9 parts divided up among 14 men. This thins the sound and without the best acoustical setting produces a muddy effect that audiences don't really appreciate, particularly in a room like Woolsey Hall. And when such songs are sung badly, they are absolutely horrid. Beck achieved a masterstroke in this arrangement. Yes, he does split the Tenor 2's in 2 measures, to great effect. These create brief , irresistible explosions applied at the very peak of the song's emotional climax.
Another striking thing about both these arrangements is they get it done in just 2 or 3 pages. In a matter of a couple of minutes, these songs introduce themselves to the audience, ingratiate themselves with a wonderful, colorful close harmony, achieve an unspeakable emotional peak and leave one feeling changed and refreshed. Some a cappella arrangements take dozens of pages to achieve anything at all and oftentimes, they never achieve anything beyond reproducing a cover of a song the singers happen to love. Many times, the audience has to devote a great deal of attention to songs they may not even know, often wondering whether they left the oven on back home. We have to remember we sing for the audience, not for ourselves. Like a team of Navy Seals, we have to insert ourselves into an alien environment, do surgical/emotional damage and get the heck out. It's why the SOBs are good - they care more about your arrest record than your vocal range!
The Return of the King
Back in 1972, my band of songsters were a rowdy lot. We defied tradition, we turned down a White House invitation, and we deposed our pitchpipe. Yes, we took a straw poll and informed him he had a vote of no confidence and asked him to step down. Why he didn't quit, I'll never know, but the man had more guts than most men you'll ever meet. He was quite well suited to the task and actually did a lot of great work with us. But like I say, we were a bunch of renegades. There were a lot of forces at work in our College and in the wider world - pressures for change and relevancy - pressures to reinvent the old-fashioned bastions of Yale and male a cappella singing. Jeff represented something of the old school and several of us hungered to create the new school. So we deposed him. When we were young and stupid we were young and stupid....
Had Jeff not had the aforementioned character and fortitude, our group would certainly have imploded. Despite our rash action, Jeff sang well with us all year and saved our group. But he has felt alienated from us ever since and has not attended reunions. The power vacuum allowed me to enjoy the prestige of becoming pitchpipe these last 10 years, once I began attending regularly myself. It was a job I loved, and after regaining practice with Blue of a Kind, I felt I brought some great experience to bear.
We've always tried to engage Jeff to "reune" with us. We missed his jolly companionship as much as his lovely voice. I'd spoken with him on several occasions in the past, even tried to round him up physically 10 years ago, but he always said he would never return.
Something softened in him for this 100th celebration and he let me and a few others know he was planning to attend. But he was very concerned how the guys would accept him. He totally deferred to me as the working pitchpipe of our group, but I suggested he take the job back. In truth, I really did not want to give up the glory and the fun. I really did not insist on driving this course of action until I spoke with our legendary Irish tenor, and Nadir, Jerry Kelley. I called Jerry simply to see if he would attend the big shindig. Jerry told me he was not healthy enough to make the trip to New Haven and he's actually outlived his doctor's prediction by 10 years at this point. So now I'm talking to a dying man and one of his wishes, he tells me, is to get Jeff back in the pitchpipe position. It took me a few days stewing on that conversation before I could put my ego aside and decide to insist Jeff retake the position of musical director of our band of songsters.
I wrote Jeff and told him he had to do it. When he balked at this, I wrote emails to several key players and asked them to accept Jeff back as pitchpipe. I actually told them, "you're good with this, right?" - and to a man they all said yes. This is a good bunch of guys, even if they were once such rebels. Encouraged, Jeff wrote to each guy and engaged discussion on his own. The process was a great healing as he reconnected with all his brothers. It took a couple months, but Jeff became convinced it would work. I began yielding the responsibility and the authority to him.
The Big Show
Jeff decided to sing 2 classic Dick Gregory arrangements - these suited our double quartet and highlighted some of our best solo talent. Popeye Seligman has a lovely tenor voice that had never been featured at one of these events, and Jeff wanted to right that wrong. I backed Jeff up with sheet music and MIDI files for the guys in the weeks ahead. Last Friday, they showed up ready to play. Jeff walked in with a solid rehearsal plan and things came together right from the start.
At the Big Show, the "Parade of Whiff Groups", we were lined up to sing after a rather spectacular group. They ended their set to screams and standing ovations with the unforgettable "Midnight Train To Georgia". My heart was in my throat as we marched onstage. It was the quintessential "tough act to follow". I could just smell "train wreck". Scarlet Ribbons has a delicate character, and a case of group nerves can just kill it. You die in the intro, and it can begin a cascade effect that permeates the whole performance. Your ego flags, and you might not recover for the next song. As we took our positions, I could just about taste it.
But Jeff took it in stride with great aplomb, introduced our set with a charming hook to reengage the audience, and once my voice showed up halfway through the first measure, I knew we were locked and loaded for success. Popeye strutted his best stuff on the solo and it was smooth and warm. The ensemble never hiccuped. We had a well oiled machine and didn't sound like a bunch of geezers without enough air. Then we strutted out the now retired chestnut, Maggie Blues and ended with a bit of a bang. Solid, solid and fun.
SOBs in the Mix
Several SOBs made substantial contributions to the success of this celebration. I'm proud that this otherwise nefarious Yale group is also a magnet for men of character, fortitude and the willingness to knuckle down and contribute time, hard work and expertise to honor, preserve and celebrate this tradition we all love. Many of us love to stand on the stage and sing, make a beautiful noise, hear the applause and be rock stars. This alone has tremendous merit and benefits the whole world, just because we're brave enough to make merry in a world that is nearly always gone completely mad. But several other SOBs were among the Centennial Awards and I feel I should mention them as well. Barry McMurtrey, '89 did most of the reunion planning and logistics. He organized a library exhibit of Whiff memorabilia that was beyond amazing. Yale Sterling Library now has a fabulous exhibition of Whiffenpoof history because of Barry. That is only the tip of what he did. Anything that happened this past weekend would not have happened had it not been for Barry. Make that the whole Centennial Year!
Lisle Leete, '81, as I mentioned before, produced a set of part-predominant practice CDs for Whiffs of all ages, so they can easily learn all the "Common Songs" we'll henceforth be able to sing whenever we come together. I mentioned the story of this amazing project in my last blog entry, and an article is being discussed now for the Yale Alumni Magazine. I will continue to push Lisle to write something for one of the prominent recording trade journals.
What guys like these do for the benefit of the SOBs as well as the Whiffenpoofs is immeasurable. They set a model of service that should be passed on for the next hundred years.
Three Years From Now
We get to do it again. We have big plans. We have recovered another lamb. We have a few other lost lambs to gather back into the fold. We're thinking of introducing a new, original arrangement to add some sparkle. In the meantime, we're discussing a plan to visit Jerry Kelley to sing with him again, if he'll have us. We're bothers. We'll always be brothers. It's something about the magic of the singing.
