Humor
DESIGNATED CRITIC
Mr. Rubber Duckie has been a long-time concert goer. He is often in a fowl mood about any music that is not all it’s quacked up to be. Mr. Duckie, after being softened up by certain members of the Chorus has agreed to give us a flying review tonight, before high tailing it out of here. Mr. Duckie is a breast of all current music issues and will not chicken out on us, regardless of how much of a turkey he is considered to be. In his reviews, Mr. Duckie has always been a lucky duck and has never walked away with egg on his face, no matter how he shells it out. Always approachable, he is never stuffed up with his own importance. Landing this position with the HMC has been a real feather in his cap. With his natural affinity to the subject, Mr. Duckie has agreed to step on it and become our new web master before heading south for the winter.
Do not be surprised if you see Mr. Duckie Peeking out from behind the curtains. He is also responsible for silencing any audience members singing along inappropriately. For this, he will use duck tape.
Urgent Notice: The HMC has selected a new guest conductor for our Concert in the Part this summer. For a bio and a picture, click here.
Many of us sing in our church choirs. We would like to bring you The Best Church Bulletin Bloopers (refreshes every time you re-load this page!)
This blooper actually appeared in a church bulletin or was announced in church service:
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A View of Choral Singers
In any choir or chorus, there are four voice parts: soprano, alto, tenor, and bass.
There are also various other parts such as baritone, countertenor, contralto, mezzo-soprano, etc., but these are mostly used by people who are either soloists, or belong to some excessively hotshot classical a cappella group (this applies especially to countertenors), or are trying to make excuses for not really fitting into any of the regular voice parts, so we will ignore them for now.
Each voice part sings in a different range, and each one has a very different personality. You may ask, "Why should singing different notes make people act differently?" and indeed this is a mysterious question and has not been adequately studied, especially since scientists who study musicians tend to be musicians themselves and have all the peculiar complexes that go with being tenors, French horn players, timpanists, or whatever.
However, this is beside the point; the fact remains that the four voice parts can be easily distinguished, and I will now explain how.
THE SOPRANOS are the ones who sing the highest, and because of this they think they rule the world. They have longer hair, fancier jewelry, and swishier skirts than anyone else, and they consider themselves insulted if they are not allowed to go at least to a high F in every movement of any given piece. When they reach the high notes, they hold them for at least half again as long as the composer and/or conductor requires, and then complain that their throats are killing them and that the composer and conductor are sadists.
Sopranos have varied attitudes toward the other sections of the chorus, though they consider all of them inferior: The altos are to sopranos rather like second violins to first violins--nice to harmonize with, but not really necessary. All sopranos have a secret feeling that the altos could drop out and the piece would sound essentially the same, and they don't understand why anybody would sing in that range in the first place -- it's so boring.
Sopranos think tenors, on the other hand, can be very nice to have around; besides their flirtation possibilities (it is a well-known fact that sopranos never flirt with basses), sopranos like to sing duets with tenors because all the tenors are doing is working very hard to sing in a low-to-medium soprano range, while the sopranos are up there in the stratosphere showing off.
To sopranos, basses are the scum of the earth -- they sing too damn loud, are useless to tune to because they're down in that low, low range -- and there has to be something wrong with anyone who sings in the F clef, anyway. One curious fact is that although the sopranos swoon while the tenors sing, they still end up going home with the basses.
THE ALTOS are the salt of the earth -- in their opinion, at least. Altos are unassuming people who would wear jeans to concerts if they were allowed to. Altos are in a unique position in the chorus in that they are unable to complain about having to sing either very high or very low, and they know that all the other sections think their parts are pitifully easy.
But the altos know otherwise. They know that while the sopranos are screeching away on a high A, they are being forced to sing elaborate passages full of sharps and flats and tricks of rhythm, and nobody is noticing because the sopranos are singing too loud (and the basses usually are, too). Altos get a deep, secret pleasure out of conspiring together to tune the sopranos flat.
Altos have an innate distrust of tenors, because the tenors sing in almost the same range and think they sound better. They like the basses, and enjoy singing duets with them -- the basses just sound like a rumble anyway, and it's the only time the altos can really be heard. Altos' other complaint is that there are always too many of them and so they never get to sing really loud.
THE TENORS are spoiled. That's all there is to it. For one thing, there are never enough of them, and choir directors would rather sell their souls than let a halfway decent tenor quit, while they're always ready to unload a few sopranos or altos at half price. And then, for some reason, the few tenors there are always seem to be really good -- it's one of those annoying facts of life.
So it's no wonder that tenors always get swollen heads -- after all, who else can make sopranos swoon? The one thing that can make tenors insecure is the accusation (usually by the basses) that anyone singing that high couldn't possibly be a real man. In their usual perverse fashion, the tenors never acknowledge this, but just complain louder about the composer being a sadist and making them sing so damn high.
Tenors have a love-hate relationship with the conductor, too, because the conductor is always telling them to sing louder because there are so few of them. No conductor in recorded history has ever asked for less tenor in a forte passage.
Tenors feel threatened in some way by all the other sections -- the sopranos, because they can hit those incredibly high notes; the altos, because they have no trouble singing the notes the tenors kill themselves for; and the basses because, although they can't sing anything above an E, they sing it loud enough to drown the tenors out. Of course, the tenors would rather die than admit any of this.
It is a little-known fact that tenors move their eyebrows more than anyone else while singing.
THE BASSES sing the lowest of anybody. This basically explains everything. They are solid, dependable people, and have more facial hair than anybody else. The basses feel perpetually unappreciated, but they have a deep conviction that they are actually the most important part (a view endorsed by musicologists, but certainly not by sopranos or tenors), despite the fact that they have the most boring part of anybody and often sing the same note (or in endless fifths) for an entire page. They compensate for this by singing as loudly as they can get away with -- most basses are tuba players at heart.
Basses are the only section that can regularly complain about how low their part is, and they make horrible faces when trying to hit very low notes. Basses are charitable people, but their charity does not extend so far as tenors, whom they consider effete poseurs. Basses hate tuning the tenors more than almost anything else. Basses like altos -- except when they have duets and the altos get the good part.
As for the sopranos, they are simply in an alternate universe which the basses don't understand at all. They can't imagine why anybody would ever want to sing that high and sound that bad when they make mistakes. When a bass makes a mistake, the other three parts will cover him, and he can continue on his merry way, knowing that sometime, somehow, he will end up at the root of the chord.
(I wish I knew who gets credit for this piece. Maybe though they are one of those countertenors or some hotshot baritone!)
The Dentist's Hymn:.....................Crown Him with Many Crowns
The Weatherman's Hymn..............There Shall Be Showers of Blessings
The Contractor's Hymn:............... The Church's One Foundation
The Tailor's Hymn:....................... Holy, Holy, Holy
The Golfer's Hymn:...................... There's a Green Hill Far Away
The Politician's Hymn:.................. Standing on the Promises
The Optometrist's Hymn:.............. Open My Eyes That I Might See
The IRS Agent's Hymn:................. I Surrender All
The Gossip's Hymn:..................... .Pass It On
The Electrician's Hymn:.................Send The Light
The Shopper's Hymn:.................... Sweet By and By
The Realtor's Hymn:.......................I've Got a Mansion, Just Over the
Hilltop
The Massage Therapists Hymn...... He Touched Me
The Doctor's Hymn:...................... The Great Physician
AND for those who speed on the highway - a few hymns:
-----45mph...................God Will Take Care of You
-----55mph....................Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah
-----65mph....................Nearer My God To Thee
-----75mph....................Nearer Still Nearer
-----85mph....................This World Is Not My Home
-----95mph...................Lord, I'm Coming Home
-----Over 100mph...........Precious Memories
Many asked for the words to the song Ted sang in the Fall 2002 concert. By popular demand, Ted has produced the words to "The Ballad of the Shape of Things to Come," and another wonderful song from the same show, "Someone's Been Sending Me Flowers." Both songs are by Sheldon Harnick, who went on to write Fiddler on the Roof. He wrote "Someone's Been Sending Me Flowers" for The Shoestring Revue in 1995, where it was sung by Dody Goodman (later the mother on Mary Hartman Mary Hartman). The music was by David Baker. He wrote the words and apparently also wrote the music for "The Shape of Things", which was sung in 1957 by Charlotte Rae (later on The Facts of Life) in The Littlest Revue. Note: He and Charlotte were at Northwestern together, where she apparently introduced at least one of his songs in a student revue.
The Shape of Things
Completely round is the perfect pearl the oyster manufactures.
Completely round is the steering wheel that leads to compound fractures.
Completely round is the golden fruit that hangs on the orange tree.
Yes, the circle shape is quite reknowned.
'Tis sad to say it can be found in the low-down dirty run around
My true love gave to me. Yes, my true love gave to me.
Completely square was the velvet box he said my ring would be in.
Completely square was the envelope he said farewell to me in.
Completely square was the handkerchief I burnish constantly.
As it dries my eyes of the tears I shed
And blows my nose 'til it turns bright red for a perfect square is my true love's head.
He will not marry me. No! He will not marry me.
Rectangular was the hotel door, my true love to sneak through.
Rectangular was the transom over which I had to peek through.
Rectangular was the hotel room I entered angrily.
Now rectangular was the wooden box
Where lies my love 'neath the golden flox. They say he died of the chicken pox.
In part, I must agree. One chick too many had he.
Triangular is the piece of pie I eat to ease my sorrow.
Triangular is the hatchet blade I plan to hide tomorrow.
Triangular the relationship that now has ceased to be,
And triangular is the garment thin that fastens on with a safety pin
To a prize I had no wish to win.
It's a lasting memory that my true love gave to me
Someone's Been Sending Me Flowers
Somebody's sending me flowers;
Oh, what a nice thing to do!
Every day brings another bouquet,
And I don't know who to say "thank you" to.
Sometimes they're thrown through the window,
Or down through the chimney they fall.
Sometimes at night when I turn out the light
They come through a crack in the wall.
Now that my house is a garden,
Bursting with blossoms and blooms,
I stand there for hours admiring my flowers,
And I'd like to sit down, but there just isn't room.
Somebody's sending me flowers,
More than I ever have had;
And it's adorable stuff
But enough is enough;
And if I see another bouquet, I'll go mad.
Flow'rs are the language of love, I'm told;
A language divine.
Each pretty little blossom has a message to unfold,
That's all, except mine.
Now, if flowers are the language of affection,
Well, how can I interpret this collection?
He started by sending me bluebells;
Strangely enough, they were grey.
Each little bloom had a horrid perfume,
And besides being grey, they were papier mache.
There followed a large pot of fungus;
Then as an added surprise,
He sent me a plant that proceeded to pant
And later began catching flies.
Oh, the cactus corsage touched me deeply,
A beautiful plant in its prime,
And I felt much the same when the rock garden came,
One rock at a time.
Somebody madly adores me.
I don't know who to suspect,
And I can't afford to be madly adored;
Oh, I do wish he'd stop sending flow'rs collect!
To the tune of Immortal, Invincible:
Immoral Impossible
Immoral, impossible God only knows
How tenors and basses, sopranos, altos
At service on Sunday are rarely the same
As those who on Thursday to choir practice came.
Unready, unable to sight-read the notes,
Nor counting nor blending, they tighten their throats.
The descant so piercing is soaring above
The melody only a mother could love.
They have a director, but on one knows why.
No one in the choir deigns to turn him an eye.
It's clear by his waving, he wants them to look,
But each of them stands with his nose in the book.
Despite the offenses, the music rings out
The folks in the pews are enraptured, no doubt
Their faces are blissful, their thoughts are so deep,
But it is no wonder, for they are asleep!
Thanks (or blame) to Ken Kress for this great piece!
The webmaster picked this up at the 2003 Sea Music Festival in Mystic. Many thanks go to Chris Morgan for this modern sea chanty.
Balance the Bottom Line
Chorus:
We'll balance the bottom line, me boys,
We'll balance the bottom line;
Sing away your woes with a High-Low-Close,
As we balance the bottom line.
Our captain's William Gates the Third
the crew thinks that he's quite a [turd] nerd,
He's our Internet Explorer oh so fine,
When the captain says to go to hell
We just log on to AOL,
And balance the bottom line
We'll balance the bottom line, me boys,
We'll balance the bottom line;
We will turn the winch with old Merrill Lynch
As we balance the bottom line.
Our first mate's Alan Greenspan
By God he is a mean man,
Irrational Exuberance is what he does malign,
Still, our stock is splitting two for one
As we go working in the sun,
To balance the bottom line
We'll balance the bottom line, me boys,
We'll balance the bottom line;
With our IPOs we will public go
As we balance the bottom line.
The spreadsheets in the winds do blow
As we ship Beta 3.0,
The chilly air will freeze 'your code
And chill you to the bones,
Though the swelling seas do sicken
We'll balance the books with Quicken,
Up on the Nas-Deck with Dow and Davy Jones.
We'll balance the bottom line, me boys,
We'll balance the bottom line;
So take up the slack, and stay in the black
As we balance the bottom line.
Our hi-tech ship has plenty rum
To fuel our steam-powered Pentium,
We surf and browse the Internet online
"Click Hi click low, a mousing we will go" [a la Carousel]
As we balance the bottom line
We'll balance the bottom line, me boys,
We'll balance the bottom line;
Sing away your woes with a High- Low-Close,
As we balance the bottom line.
Copyright© 2003 by Chris Morgan, morgan@acm.org
A Choristers' Guide To Keeping Their Conductor In Line
The basic training of every singer should, of coarse, include myriad types of practical and theoretical emphases. One important area which is often neglected, however, is the art of one-upmanship. The following rules are intended as guides to the development of habits which will promote the proper type of relationship between the singer and their conductor.
- Never be satisfied with the starting pitch. Make known your preferences for pitches from the piano.
- Complain about the temperature of the rehearsal room, the lighting, crowded space, and of a draft. It's best to do this when the conductor is under pressure.
- Bury your head in your music just before cues.
- Loudly clear your throat during pauses (tenors are trained to do this from birth). Pauses and instrumental interludes are a good chance to blow your nose.
- Long after a passage has gone by, ask the conductor if your C# was in tune. This is especially effective if you had no C# or were not singing at the time.
- Wait until well into the rehearsal before letting the conductor know you forgot your music.
- When possible, sing your part either an octave higher or lower than what is written. This is excellent ear-training for the conductor. If she/he hears the pitch, deny it and claim it must have been the combination tone.
- Exclaim : "I can't find the beat" while looking in your music.
- If you are singing in a different language, ask the conductor as many questions as possible about the meaning of individual words. If this fails, ask about the pronunciation of the most difficult words. Occasionally say the word in question twice and ask his/her preference, making to say the word exactly the same way both times. If he/she remarks on their similarity, give him/her a look of disdain and mumble under your breath about the "subtleties of inflection".
- If your articulation of a phrase differs from that of others singing the same phrase, stick to your guns! Do not ask the conductor which is correct until backstage just before the concert.
- Find an excuse to leave rehearsal 15 minutes early so that the others will become restless and start to fidget.
In other words, make every effort to take the attention away from the podium and put it on you where it belongs!
From the choir room at Old First Church, where three fourths of the Bass section are in the HMC: And remember - whenever there are four Bass's, there's a fifth.
There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but at Old First Church there are at least as many reasons to Join The Choir:
- Get a Sunday parking space
- Get Bach to God
- Listen to the organist play twice a week
- Learn to fear Christmas and Easter
- B A# E [be a sharpy]
- Outnumber the
congregation on
Thanksgiving, New Year’s Day. - Heckle the choirmaster
- The audience in the shower is too small
- Get a Handel on your social life
- Get dispensation to giggle during the sermon
- Sing Greasy peas [Grace and Peace]
- Two words: Choir Party!
- Let everyone try to guess what you are really wearing
- Gather the people, sanctify the congregation, search for your music folder
- Start the service being Filled with Gin Spirits [Be Filled with the Spirits]
- We sit closer to heaven than the minister
- Snow Not Far from Me Oh Lord! [Go Not Far From Me]
- Make a joyous noise unto the Lord
- It’s OK to bring coffee into the sanctuary
- Wear Funny clothing
- Get out of ushering
- Have fun.
- Practice for your halo and harp
- Sing the steeple right off the church!
- Be allowed to tell the minister each Sunday, “How Awful is This Place” [How Awesome is this Place]
- We sometimes sing Lu-Lu’s, other times we sign oh-oh’s and we always sing Amen’s
- Meet Hymns and Hers
- Thursday rehearsals required. Sundays are optional.
- They don’t pass us the offering basket.
- Learn how it was done “Back when Andy was here” [yup. That’s Andy Householder]
- Join duBoise out every Thursday evening
- Watch the choirmaster get whiplash weekly
- God does not detract from Man’s allotted time on earth those hours spent singing
- Our goal: 100% membership!
- Reserved seating
- They double our salary weekly!
- Don’t be caught “flat” footed
- Learn why we love the youth choir so much
- Some sing low and some des can’t [descantes]
- We get more exercise
- Drive the choirmaster crazy
- You say you can’t? We say you Cantada.
- Drown Us in the Spirits Together [Draw Us and the Spirits Together]
- Learn the “alternate” lyrics to the anthems and hymns
- Join the Dancing Day [Tomorrow shall be my dancing Day]
- Clothing optional
- Sing Garlic Dressing [Gaelic Blessing]
- Membership fee waived for church members
- Contribute to insanity.
- Be Immoral, Impossible [Immortal, Invincible]
- We need ten-or so new singers [Sopranos, Altos and Basses also welcome]
- We get in the last word
And, as for the Bell Choir:
- Join the Bell Choir – Don’t be a ding dong
- Join the Bell Choir – Brass knuckles provided
- Join the Bell Choir – Be a bell E dancer
- Join the Bell Choir – Let it chime, let it chime, let it chime
Oh – I couldn’t resist this humor page: Choral singer's guide
Wanted: Music jokes and websites. Please email them to the webmaster.