#and especially now love his support for palestrina and

[justasmisunderstoodasloki]

This is now a Joost Klein stanblog

[dieverdediger]

The Worship of Depression

Hot take: We as a Western society like depression. We like darkness. We like the “broken” guy. Take a look at shows like Rick and Morty, BBC’s Sherlock (to some extent), House M.D., Bojack Horseman, Doc Martin, and many others. We always like to see how this “weird” but “smart” guy struggles with his relationship and struggles to be a better person. 

That’s all well and good... IF we keep in mind that he is the abnormality. Not us. The problem lies in him, not me. Where he represents some universal condition, it is not necessarily an inevitable one. 

The lead characters of all these shows tend to have a pessimistic view of life. Take Dr. House especially. “Life is pain”, he says. And so he drives almost everyone away. They think the universe is meaningless and godless (literally and figuratively). We would be stupid to take their advice. Clearly there is something wrong with them. House has an addiction and tries to solve his loneliness through work and prostitutes, Morty is alcoholic and also lonely, Bojack is depressed, Martin has anxiety. Healthy people have none of these. So what they say should be taken with a grain of salt. 

Two shows point to a better world. Sherlock starts out like the guys above: cold, analytical, unappreciative of relationships. But we quickly realise - and Sherlock himself quickly realises - that he is the one missing out. There is some healthy view of the world that he, in all his genius, never realised. In Season 3 there is this one scene where Sherlock and his brother Mycroft have a little game. They try to one-up each other by analysing a stranger’s hat:

(See the vid below)

Sherlock: A quick sniff of the offending bobble tells us all we need to know about the state of his breath.

Mycroft: Brilliant! Elementary.

Sherlock: But you've missed his isolation.

Mycroft: I don't see it.

Sherlock: Plain as day.

Mycroft: Where? 

Sherlock: There for all to see.

Mycroft: Tell me.

Sherlock: Plain as the nose on your -

Mycroft: Tell me! 

Sherlock: Well, anybody who wears a hat as stupid as this isn't in the habit of hanging around other people, is he? 

By the third season Sherlock has grown, and this has helped him even in his intellectual pursuits. He could have stuck to his isolation and obsessiveness, but he didn’t. He opened up and really started to care for John and the others. It was through his empathy that he recognised the stranger’s isolation. That’s good. That’s growth. 

The other show, which is even better, is Lucifer. On the surface Lucifer is everything that’s bad about our obsession with the anti-hero: violent, destructive, has orgies, ignores important problems, hides his feelings... But the creators of the show always keeps it very clear to the audience that Lucifer is the one with the issue. Lucifer has the “daddy issues”. Lucifer himself often admits this. In fact his entire therapy thing is an attempt to deal with a recognition that he has the problem. Not Cloe, he. We should not emulate him. We can study him, and laugh at him, and cry for him. But not copy him. 

The point of everything is this: depressed does NOT equal depth or intelligence. What is sad is not necessarily true. What is pessimistic is not necessarily realistic. Quite the opposite usually. We have a tendency for taking the sad guy to be the one with the right view of life, and the happy guy to be the one with the naive and stupid view of life. Why? What is the rational reason for this? We do so because we think in our heart of hearts that life really is meaningless. But if it is NOT meaningless, then of course the happy man would be the right one. We shouldn’t mock him.

Now, of course if the universe is meaningless then we should agree with Dr. House. And if it has meaning, we should agree with Dr. Wilson. But suppose we don’t know whether it is meaningless or not. If we don’t know the facts, then shouldn’t we chose the healthier option? The view that is conducive to happiness, relationships, and love? Isn’t it the more “fitting”? 

I think linked to the “depression equals depth” assumption is the idea that happy people are naive. That they do not know pain. The idea that everyone who really knows pain would be cynical and depressed. But surely the facts don’t show that? All the great people in history have known suffering. Most of the happy people you know might even have suffered more than the rest. In fact, it is usually those with the most pain in life who somehow manage to be the happiest in spite of it all. And we envy them for that. 

It is easy to be sad. You simply let your sadness overwhelm you. It doesn’t take effort. You just allow it. But to be happy is difficult. To be grateful is an exercise. To overcome and see past your own pain is a skill. It takes effort. And we don’t like that. 

One fictional character that encompasses an awareness of suffering, and yet stays happy, is Father Brown. You might have heard about him. He is a creation of G. K. Chesterton. He appears has a kind of detective priest who solves crime by looking at the characters of people.

In Chesterton’s autobiography he explained how the glory of Father Brown lies not in him being some naive priest, but rather in a priest that is more aware of evil than others, but doesn’t let it overwhelm him. He transcends it. He based Brown on a person he knew in real life: Father John o’Connor:

I mentioned to the priest in conversation that I proposed to support in print a certain proposal, it matters not what, in connection with some rather sordid social questions of vice and crime. On this particular point he thought I was in error, or rather in ignorance; as indeed I was. And, merely as a necessary duty and to prevent me from falling into a mare's nest, he told me certain facts he knew about perverted practices which I certainly shall not set down or discuss here. 

I have confessed on an earlier page that in my own youth I had imagined for myself any amount of iniquity; and it was a curious experience to find that this quiet and pleasant celibate had plumbed those abysses far deeper than I. I had not imagined that the world could hold such horrors. If he had been a professional novelist throwing such filth broadcast on all the bookstalls for boys and babies to pick up, of course he would have been a great creative artist and a herald of the Dawn. As he was only stating them reluctantly, in strict privacy, as a practical necessity, he was, of course, a typical Jesuit whispering poisonous secrets in my ear. 

When we returned to the house, we found it was full of visitors, and fell into special conversation with two hearty and healthy young Cambridge undergraduates, who had been walking or cycling across the moors in the spirit of the stern and vigorous English holiday. They were no narrow athletes, however, but interested in various sports and in a breezy way in various arts; and they began to discuss music and landscape with my friend Father O'Connor. I never knew a man who could turn with more ease than he from one topic to another, or who had more unexpected stores of information, often purely technical information, upon all. 

The talk soon deepened into a discussion on matters more philosophical and moral; and when the priest had left the room, the two young men broke out into generous expressions of admiration, saying truly that he was a remarkable man, and seemed to know a great deal about Palestrina or Baroque architecture, or whatever was the point at the moment. Then there fell a curious reflective silence, at the end of which one of the undergraduates suddenly burst out. "All the same, I don't believe his sort of life is the right one. It's all very well to like religious music and so on, when you're all shut up in a sort of cloister and don't know anything about the real evil in the world. But I don't believe that's the right ideal. I believe in a fellow coming out into the world, and facing the evil that's in it, and knowing something about the dangers and all that. It's a very beautiful thing to be innocent and ignorant; but I think it's a much finer thing not to be afraid of knowledge."

To me, still almost shivering with the appallingly practical facts of which the priest had warned me, this comment came with such a colossal and crushing irony, that I nearly burst into a loud harsh laugh in the drawing-room. For I knew perfectly well that, as regards all the solid Satanism which the priest knew and warred against with all his life, these two Cambridge gentlemen (luckily for them) knew about as much of real evil as two babies in the same perambulator.

And so, to end my much too long post, I will make my point clear: there is nothing necessarily deep in being sad. And there’s nothing necessarily superficial in being happy. Don’t be depressed because you think it is deep. Don’t envy those who are clearly unhappy. Don’t mistake joy for foolishness.

P. S. I am not making any comment on depression as an actual psychological disease. I understand that this is not always a choice. But this just reinforces my point: clearly depression isn’t healthy. So we shouldn’t emulate it. We should pity and help those who have it, but we are idiots if we think people who suffer from it are somehow “deeper” and “more profound” than our happy Christian neighbour. There’s something this neighbour - who has the same problems us we - realise that we don’t. 

[2700fstreet]

CLASSICAL / 2018-2019

CHANTICLEER

STUDENT GUIDE

PERFORMANCE / DEMONSTRATION

School show: April 2

Teacher and Parent Guide: Chanticleer

So, What’s Going On?

They take the stage, their voices filling the auditorium with vocal sounds as rich as a symphony. But unlike a symphony, there are no instruments with them on stage…except their voices, of course. Meet Chanticleer—12 men whose choral strains have filled concert halls for 37 years, known worldwide as “an orchestra of voices.”

Chanticleer (pronounced SHAN-teh-kleer) is a choral chamber ensemble that performs almost entirely a cappella (solo or group singing with no instrumental accompaniment). For nearly four decades, the group has performed all kinds of music from early Renaissance to jazz, gospel, and modern compositions in concert halls across the globe. Its name originated from the rooster in The Nun’s Priest’s Tale in Geoffrey Chaucer’s medieval collection The Canterbury Tales. Chaucer had borrowed this character from the ancient French tale Renard the Fox. The word “chanticleer” comes from the French chanter—“to sing” and clair—“clear.”

One of the group’s goals is to encourage worldwide appreciation for the art of ensemble singing. The performers showcase their flexibility by performing not just the expected range of classical works, but music as varied as the group’s members. Watch Chanticleer perform Freddie Mercury’s “Somebody to Love” (yep, the Queen song):

Wait! What’s a Chamber Ensemble?

Chamber music might make you think of a small group of instruments, like a string quartet or woodwind quintet. In classical chamber music, each instrument typically carries a musical part on its own, unlike an orchestra where multiple instruments play a part. And like instrumental music, in a choral chamber group, the singers typically sing an individual part, as opposed to a choir, where multiple voices per part are present. Chanticleer has only 12 members, but they blend their voices into one sound, even as they sing different parts.

Speaking of parts, Chanticleer's voices from lowest to highest are:

contrabass: the deepest, or lowest, male voice, an octave below a typical bass

bass: a low male voice, singing the lowest notes in the vocal range of most males

baritone: a medium-low male voice singing in the range between tenor and bass

tenor: a high male voice, singing in the range between countertenor and baritone

countertenor: the highest male singing voice, equivalent to a female contralto or mezzo-soprano

alto: typically a female voicing, male altos sing higher than tenors and lower than sopranos

soprano: the highest female voicing, achieved by some male countertenors through the use of falsetto (a method of voice production used by male singers, especially tenors, to sing notes higher than their normal range)

Who’s Who

Chanticleer was founded in San Francisco, California, in 1978 when music student Louis Botto invited nine men to sing around his dining room table. He thought it was strange that the vocal music of the medieval and Renaissance periods wasn’t being performed and founded a group to remedy that. One of the founding baritones, Charlie Erikson, was reading Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales at the time and suggested they name the group Chanticleer after the name of the "clear-singing" rooster.

One of Botto’s goals was to provide full-time, salaried employment for its members, a challenging goal the group finally achieved in 1991. The group had gained notoriety by touring the country in a van, and eventually earned international recognition in Europe. Over time, they were able to release an album that included many original compositions written specifically for the group.

Currently, the group consists of 12 men, including two basses, one baritone, three tenors, and six countertenors.

Andy Berry, bass Zachary Burgess, bass-baritone Brian Hinman, tenor Matthew Knickman, baritone Matthew Mazzola, tenor Cortez Mitchell, countertenor Gerrod Pagenkopf, countertenor and Assistant Music Director Kory Reid, countertenor Alan Reinhardt, countertenor Logan S. Shields, countertenor (soprano) Andrew Val Allsburg, tenor Adam Ward, alto

Chanticleer has been led by Music Director William Fred Scott since 2015, following decades of successful years conducting and directing various opera houses, symphonies, and choral schools.

Caption: Musical Director, William Fred Scott

Check This Out…

During the performance and demonstration, Chanticleer will perform a varied repertoire stretching from early Renaissance music to arrangements of jazz and spirituals. The performance list includes:

“Gaude gloriosa” by Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (jaw-VAH-nee pyer-loo-EE-jee dah pal-uh-STREE-nuh) (c. 1525–1594) is a motet (pronounced MOH-tet; a sacred choral composition) honoring The Virgin Mary.

Read this translation of the Latin lyrics of the motet. Notice how the words profess adoration for Mary.

Gaude gloriosa,

Rejoice, glorious one,

super omnes speciosa,

surpassing all others in beauty,

Vale, valde decora,

Fare you well, fair Lady,

et pro nobis semper Christum exora.

and intercede for us to Christ.

Palestrina was known for his perfection of counterpoint, a musical technique where different melodic lines are combined to create harmony using strict rules. Listen for the intricate way the voices simultaneously sing individual melodies and interact with one another to form harmonies.

Get a glimpse into the life of Chanticleer while listening to Gaude gloriosa:

"Duo Serarphim” is a motet written by Jacob Händl (1550–1591), a Slovenian composer and monk who was also known as Jacobus Gallus. He wrote both sacred and secular works including musical settings of the mass, passions, and motets. (The Catholic mass was often set by composers into major compositions with sections like the Kyrie and the Gloria.)

Read the translation of the Latin lyrics of the motet.

Duo seraphim clamabant alter ad alterum:

Two seraphim cried to one another,

Sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth.

Holy is the Lord God of Sabbath.

Plena est omnis terra gloria ejus.

The whole earth is full of His glory.

“Duo Seraphim” is a polychoral piece, meaning it utilizes two different choruses that alternate singing. This type of composition is a hallmark of the Venetian school in the late Renaissance period. See if you can hear where the two choruses answer one another throughout the music.

Händl (pronounced HAHN-del) was criticized in his time for music that was too complex, both for their large number of voice parts (some of his pieces included up to 24 individual parts), and for the intricate counterpoint of his music. Hear "Duo Seraphim":

“Nude Descending a Staircase” by Allen Shearer (b. 1943) utilizes a poem by X.J. Kennedy and is based on a painting by Marcel Duchamp (DOO-shawn; 1887–1968). About the song, Shearer writes, “Because I am a singer myself, writing vocal music is a particular pleasure for me. Setting this whimsical poem provides a diversion.”

Nude Descending a Staircase, No.2 (1912) is a Modernist painting that depicts an abstract human figure walking down a flight of stairs. The original reception of the painting was not favorable, and it was largely regarded with jokes and ridicule. View the painting:

Image Source

Now listen to this description of the painting:

If the painting represents overlapped images of a person walking down steps, how does the musical interpretation do the same? Listen for complex rhythms, humorous asides, and thick musical texture (there's a lot going on at once here!). Hear Chanticleer sing "Nude Descending a Staircase":

DID YOU KNOW…Some info on Cubism and Futurism

In Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2, Shearer combined Cubist and Futurist artistic styles. Cubism was an early 20th-century art movement using geometric shapes and interlocking planes. Futurism was an early 20th-century Italian art movement emphasizing speed, technology, industrial objects, youth, and velocity. Both art movements extended their influences to the period’s music, dance, literature, and film.

Quatre petites prières de Saint François d'Assise (Four small prayers of Saint Francis of Assisi) by Francis Poulenc (1899–1963) is a group of four motets based on the prayers of Saint Francis of Assisi, a Catholic friar who is considered the patron saint of animals.

Image Source

The piece was written by Poulenc (poo-LINGK) in 1948 for an a cappella men’s chorus and premiered by Franciscan monks. It alternates moments of chant, similar to Gregorian chant (a single melody of unaccompanied singing as a form of prayer), with more complex harmonies. Poulenc’s harmonic passages uses homophony—a musical texture where a strong melody is supported by harmonies.

Hear Chanticleer perform the piece:

“Fröhlich im Maien” from Drei Männerchöre, Op. 45 by Richard Strauss (REE-card strauss) was written for a male singing-society in Germany in the 1930s. Best known for his operas, tone poems (orchestral music that illustrates the text of a poem) and Lieder (poetry set to polyphonic music with several simultaneous melodies), Strauss (1864–1949) wrote several little-known works for such singing societies. This piece is set to the text of Friedrich Rückert (FREED-rik REUK-ehrt; 1788–1866), a German Romantic poet.

“Fröhlich im Maien” (“Joyous in May”) is the third männerchöre (or men’s chorus) in Drei Männerchöre, a song that encourages everyone to dance joyously in May. Listen for surprising harmonies, a hallmark of Romantic music.

The piece alternates verses with a chorus. See if you can follow along with the sheet music in this video as Chanticleer performs the piece:

“Dúlamán” arranged by Michael McGlynn (b. 1964) is set to a traditional Irish folk text. McGlynn uses classical and medieval music as inspiration and is best known for founding the vocal ensemble Anúna (Ah-NOO-nah).

The text of “Dúlamán” (DOO-lah-mahn) tells of a marriage involving the king of seaweed and was traditionally sung by people gathering seaweed from the unfertile coast of Ireland. The seaweed was laid on the land, and the land was eventually used for planting crops.

McGlynn’s musical setting combines traditional Irish folk music with his own musical ideas. Listen especially for the song’s alternating rhythms. Watch “Dúlamán” performed by McGlynn’s musical group Anúna:

“Creole Love Call” is frequently attributed to Duke Ellington (1899–1974), an American jazz composer and pianist who made the song famous. It was actually written, however, years before Ellington first performed it and given to him by saxophonist Rudy Jackson, who claimed it was his own composition. After Ellington performed it with jazz singer Adelaide Hall in 1927, both musicians skyrocketed to international fame. Ellington was granted publishing rights in 1928, but jazz musician Joe “King” Oliver quickly sued Ellington for plagiarism after noting that the song was eerily similar to “Camp Meeting Blues,” which Oliver had first recorded in 1923. Even though Oliver lost the suit over a paperwork error, Rudy Jackson was fired.

This arrangement of “Creole Love Call” was performed by the pre-World War II German jazz-influenced vocal ensemble the Comedian Harmonists, led by an unemployed actor named Harry Frommerman, who wrote the arrangement. This group of five male singers and a pianist was known for the ability to blend their voices. Listen to see if the members of Chanticleer are able to do the same.

The arrangement treats all of the voices as if they are instruments. Try to pick out what the individual instruments might be. (Hint! Think big band instruments like trumpet, trombone, clarinet, piano, and even a Hawaiian ukulele!)

“I Want to Die Easy” is a traditional spiritual arranged by Alice Parker and Robert Shaw with a beautiful solo tenor melody, full harmonies, and counterpoint between voices. The text describes the thoughts of a slave who has toiled in the fields and is ready to see heaven. Read the moving words:

I want to die easy when I die Shout salvation as I fly I want to die easy when I die.

I want to see my Jesus when I die Shout salvation as I fly I want to see my Jesus when I die.

I want to go to heaven when I die Shout salvation as I fly I want go to heaven when I die.

Listen for the slow, easy tempo; the emotion the tenor’s melody conveys; and the swing rhythm (a rhythm that, instead of using “straight” eighth notes counted one-and-two-and, etc., uses a triplet subdivision). It’s hard to explain but easy to feel in the music. Watch for a few quick examples of straight v. swing rhythm:

Hear Chanticleer perform “I Want to Die Easy”:

“Straight Street” is a traditional gospel song arranged by Joseph Jennings and has become one of Chanticleer’s most-often performed pieces. The song was originally written by J.W. Alexander and Jesse Whitaker from the traveling gospel ensemble the Pilgrim Travelers, whose energy and percussive foot tapping was legendary. Music from the Pilgrim Travels influenced singers like Ray Charles and Lou Rawls.

Introduced to the group by its arranger in 1980s, “Straight Street” was debuted by Chanticleer just as they began to explore repertoire outside of their traditional early music sets. Listen for the differences in vocal techniques used by the group in this song as compared to when they sing Renaissance music.

Follow the words as you watch Chanticleer perform “Straight Street”:

Well, I used to live up on Broadway Right next to the liar’s house My number was self-righteousness Had very little guide of mouth So I moved, I had to move And I’m living on Straight Street now.

One day my heart got troubled All about my dwelling place I saw the Lord ‘round my settlement And He told me to leave that place So I moved, I had to move And I’m living on Straight Street now.

Oh since I moved, I’m really living I got peace within. I thank the Lord for ev’ry blessing I’m glad I found new friends.

Before I moved over here Let me tell you how it was with me Old Satan had me bound up And I had no liberty So I moved, I had to move And I’m living on Straight Street now.

Think About This…

One unique feature of Chanticleer is the mix of voices, from soprano down to contrabass. How do the voices intermingle to create one sound? When a soloist takes center stage, how do the other voices blend to support him?

How is music influenced by art, and vice versa? Think of Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2. How does the musical interpretation of the poem and the painting expand your understanding of its meaning? What other examples can you think of to exemplify music and art working together?

How do you compare Chanticleer’s group performances with the type of music you usually hear performed—from classical to popular? You may not listen to a lot of early music or even jazz and spirituals, but are there aspects of Chanticleer’s performance that seem familiar? What sets Chanticleer apart from other live music you’ve experienced?

Take Action: Transforming Art

Many of the pieces Chanticleer performs are music set to art or poetry. “Fröhlich im Maien” is music set to a poem, while “Nude Descending a Staircase” represents music set to both a poem and visual art. Throughout history, composers and performers have been inspired by existing art, transforming that inspiration into song.

Think of a piece of art (poetry, painting, sculpture, dance, etc.) that inspires you. Choose a way to use that inspiration to create your own piece of art—whether that’s composing a song to represent a poem, or creating a dance to accompany an existing piece of music. Consider the elements of the art you're representing, and how they'll come through in your new creation. Share your innovation (and the artwork you transformed!) with a friend or trusted adult.

EXPLORE MORE

Go even deeper with the Chanticleer Extras.

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All Chanticleer photos by Lisa Kohler

Writer: Tori Friedrich

Content Editor: Lisa Resnick

Logistics Coordination: Katherine Huseman

Producer and Program Manager: Tiffany A. Bryant

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David M. Rubenstein Chairman

Deborah F. Rutter President

Mario R. Rossero Senior Vice President Education

Gianandrea Noseda Music Director National Symphony Orchestra

The Fortas Chamber Music Concerts are supported by generous contributors to the Abe Fortas Memorial Fund, and by a major gift to the fund from the late Carolyn E. Agger, widow of Abe Fortas.

Major support for educational programs at the Kennedy Center is provided by David M. Rubenstein through the Rubenstein Arts Access Program.

Kennedy Center education and related artistic programming is made possible through the generosity of the National Committee for the Performing Arts.

© 2019 The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts