Let All The World In Every Corner Sing!

image courtesy of Spencer Greet

Today is Easter Sunday in the Christian calendar, a day for celebrating Christ's resurrection from the tomb.

For singers and musicians, it is a busy time; Easter services require a church to "pull out all the stops" both in a metaphorical and literal sense. Metaphorically speaking, all of the musical resources at a congregation's disposal are marshalled, from choirs, to brass, to handbells, and, of course, the pipe organ, the "king of instruments." On a pipe organ, stops are knobs that control the flow of air to the pipes; when an organist literally pulls out all of the stops, he or she is allowing the organ to reach maximum volume.

Easter Sunday services are nothing if not loud. But it is certainly a joyful noise.

Norm, Spence and I could be found this morning singing in the choir at our church, the Church of the Loving Shepherd in West Chester, Pennsylvania. All of the stops were indeed pulled out today; there was a delightful brass quartet that provided music before, during and after the service, everything from a reverential piece to Dixieland jazz after the service had ended.

During the service itself, the choir sang the Ralph Vaughn Williams composition Five Mysical Songs, an Easter song cycle set to meditational poems by George Herbert. Three of the songs are arranged for baritone solo with choral accompaniment; one selection is a baritone solo, and the last piece, or antiphon, is a choral anthem.

Anyone who is familiar with the music of Vaughn Williams would recognize his signature in these pieces; they are gorgeously lyrical, yet not easy to sing. Vaughn Williams was a twentieth century English composer who used the varied rhythms, time signatures and chromatic harmonies common to modern classical music. He was an agnostic, but had no difficulty composing music for the beautiful spiritual texts of Herbert.

The Five Mystical Songs is among my favorite choral pieces to sing. Today's experience was particularly meaningful, because it was the first time that Spencer, perennial boy chorister, joined the adult choir, singing tenor along with his versatilely-voiced dad. Spence had sung some of the pieces before, but with the Valley Forge Choir of Men and Boys, as a boy soprano. So, the three of us sang together for the first time.

When it came time for the final song, which shares its title with this blog post, all of the stops were indeed pulled out - it is a triumphant song of praise, with an accompaniment that mimics a swirling carillon of bells ringing. For a choral singer, it is a rare moment when the art that we love the most is trumpeted to the skies. Let all the world in every corner sing!

And what if we did, all of us, in unison all over the world?

Singing has been called the first art; the voice is the original musical instrument, and all cultures, from times before recorded history, have sung. In fact, it is likely that speech originated from song.

I can tell you that singing in a choir allows you to lose yourself and become one with other people in a way more profound than just about any other endeavor. It makes me wonder what would happen if the entire world could stop, and sing even one note, all at the same time. What would that be like? Music speaks to us at such an elemental level; could rage and frustration be suspended at least during that one moment?

As the choir joyfully (and musically, it must be said) shouted the last notes of this morning's antiphon, my heart pounded; I found myself exhilarated and moved - by the song; by the singers I shared it with, including my son and husband; by the musicians; the congregation, and moving outward, by the common humanity we all share, in every corner, all over the world.