Shifting Winds

"Become a student of change. It is the only thing that will remain constant." - Anthony J. D'Angelo

Changes. Ah, so much has been written about it. Nothing is permanent but change. When you change, you grow. When you refuse to, you die. It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.

Wise folks shared all these wisdom and we were indoctrinated enough. But why is it that every time change looms on our dashboards our tendency is to hit the breaks? Sad fact is, even if we had pumped them brakes, the bleak horizon continues to travel towards us and inevitably envelope us like a massive column of sandstorm.

We shun change. We don't look forward to it, at least for most of us.

And what seems to be most undesired is the change of heart. Signs of it rearing its ugly head may slowly fade in. Yet more often than not, it comes without any notice. Sending gloomy chill upon the scenery, it causes throbs and twinges to the bones.

Being the social beings that we are, whenever the idea of separating from someone enters our mind, we are helplessly gripped with the cold blanket of sadness. Inside, we feel like some part of our being is being yanked away from us; we freeze and wince in pain in spite of the effort to conceal it.

It is hard to accept that a friend or a loved one will hardly be on call the next time you need them because this person is moving on to a new place. But the feeling is heavier should you find you have been mutually drifting on the opposite directions for some time.

Well, there are times you can feel the poignant shifting of the wind. The familiar lull is with you at the moment and you know what that means. Things are about to change. And you may be losing something dear or someone treasured.

That's life. Deal with it. But in the end, who knows who or what you might be finding. If that would be of any consolation.

"When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on." -Franklin D. Roosevelt

the photo above this post "atlantic_splash_1" which I personally call "A Sad Man's Profile" is courtesy of dreimendoza;

http://dreimendoza.multiply.com/photos/album/21/Splash_at_Atlantic_Ocean

My Music Career Part 2

Our church, being very near the seminary where our church workers originated, became the training ground for budding choral directors. It became an extension of the seminary's auditorium. Many music cantatas presented in the seminary gets a repeat performance in our place. We have been exposed to many concerts both in the church and in the said institution. I didn't realize that one day, I will be handling a choir of my own; in my church.

Being forever musically-curious, I gathered by instincts how to use a choral piece to teach people to sing their particular parts. As a teen, we got to sing on youth rallies and music competitions. Somehow we manage to bring home some trophies. Nothing serious though, as if we were just having some good times. Our church, being a young church had transient young pastors who eventually built their own churches in their homelands/provinces. Choral directors, just the same, came and went.

From observing, I guess I gathered teaching tips I used later as I formed my very first group. I called the attention of the church kids and formed a kids choir and we studied the Psalty's Christmas Calamity, a mini Children's Cantata. The book has a section on production notes which I painstakingly studied and incorporated in this musical. The presentation was well prepared and it earned raves among the people in the church; and it paved the way to many other succeeding children's musicals. On the side, young people would fill the gaps by providing musical numbers in our worship services. Well, some things come naturally to us, Pinoys. Music wise, we are a natural.

Time sure passes quickly. You know, the very singers at that very first cantata have grown up and have families of their own. Some of their children are my high school choir singers today. I have the second generation singers. But the original singers, sadly have been replaced by new members in the adults choir. I am yet to see the day when singers would not retire but would go on singing until they grow old in this ministry. I guess they say one is enough, (me being that one). They have focused their energies to raising their kids. Hopefully, some day, they would find themselves singing again in the ministry where they started.

One day, the incumbent pastor, Pastor Arnold Badaguas talked to me and convinced me to handle the choir for good. With some reservations, I accepted the challenge. And may I tell you, the journey was not so smooth after all. But I managed to get my hand on worthy materials to study the art of singing ( in the choir); how to handle vocal problems, how to relax the body and to keep singing freely. 

That is not to mention some individuals who shared their wisdom on the subject. Choral directors nowadays are a 'lucky' bunch, what with all the highway of information flooding the internet. Just hope they will subscribe to the worthy ones; you know, not all these 'singing experts' are really in the know. But as I have observed, there are many who could really help out.

There were many pitfalls and stumbling blocks along the way; some of which nearly defeated me into quitting. But taken as a whole, everything contributed to my present stature as a mature choir director. I would rather not elaborate on some ugly facets of my ministry. It comes with the territory. I never guessed how much hurt I could possibly experience in the midst of all the Christian virtues flowing from the pulpit. 

Politics was not absent in my stint; and I guess in many others'. I got harassed and backbitten and hurt countless times from some directions. What hurt me the most were the instances when those attacks would come from the most unlikely sources. Suffice it to say that I do not need to mention any of it. They were all in the past. I moved on, he he he. After all, I remained. Standing after all the battles, no offense taken, albeit scarred, thank God.

Some time soon, I will try to share some teaching techniques I have gathered along the way. Modesty aside, I am not your usual choir director. I am quite of a 'sound engineer'. I do not let people sing 'naturally', as in sing the way they like to. 

I painstakingly coach the singers to sing a certain way- the classy way. I disdain horizontal sound so much I would deal with it extensively on any rehearsal time. People tend to sing lazily or haphazardly.

 If you would just let them sing their way, your choir will sound amateurish and glaring. I am not successful all the time, because people tend to revert back to their faulty singing styles. So I had to be very patient and remind them to sing from the diaphragm, and observe their body parts whether they are doing good or are doing a sloppy job.

At this point of my career, I am quite unpressured by the task. I have learned to use a software to make my own minus ones, which I use extensively; sometimes even during the congregational singing.

I will be sharing with you some pics of our choirs. I will just figure out a way to transfer them from some of my files to here.

My Music Career Part 1

As I have said, I have been a choir director for more than two decades already. Over the years I have gained some expertise on the field of choral direction. To think that I did not have any formal training in whatever aspect of this career I found myself in. Let me tell you how I happened to be here.

I remember as a child I was always mesmerized by the church organist in the church where we attend the Sunday worship services. I would sit there and anticipate the singing part of the worship. Then with eagle's eyes (I suspect), I would watch the lady organist as she walks over to the Hammond organ and do her thing. Incidentally, this woman is a very attractive woman (lovely, plus X-factor). She was very nice to look at, and added to my interest. I am not kidding, if I were to compare her to any local movie star, she looked like Phoemela Barranda of TV Patrol, Entertainment newscaster. In fact, a bit better looking. 

But I realized nowadays, as I look in hindsight, she was just playing simply, I mean, playing simple four-note arrangements from a church hymnal. But just the same, I can still recall the aesthetics of those sounds that were deeply embedded in my subconscious. 

Beyond our means, we never acquired any musical instrument in our home/s. But when I was about ten, my parents opened our home to be a mission house church, or a daughter church as is called nowadays. The sending church provided a manually-pedaled organ where the organists must continually pedal using both feet to produce sound. And then I realized that I can play oido (play by ear).

 I would simply review the song in my head, and then try to find the right melody on the keys. As I did, I could hear, in my head a second note travelling with the one I am imagining. I guessed this must be the way the organist play different notes simultaneously. Through trial and error, I managed to play two notes at the same time, one on each hand.

You will never guess what happened. I have a very persistent mother who would always push me to do things beyond my true capacity. Because there was no one to play the instrument, my mother would coerce me to play during the worship service. I refused quite vehemently, but the mom had a way with me. I cannot escape her determination to make me play. 

At times, everything would fall into place. I found out later that all I can play was a set of chords in the key of C, nothing else. Thus I play all songs in that key. There are times the small congregation cannot reach the range of the key. Nowadays, amused I remember the young pastor as he tried to sing through the high-pitched songs. Luckily, he can really sing, so he can improvise and make everything appear alright.

Through the years, I nourished that desire to really play the piano. I guess that somehow, several years later, and several houses later (we transferred to seven houses in all through my entire life), and thus, several churches later, our church pastor, the Rev. Genovevo Lubaton (in our final church where we have been attending since 1978, what do you know, it's been thirty years!) noticed I have some raw musical talent. 

His daughter Jasmin, who was a year or two years my junior, gave me free piano lessons during weekends. There slowly, I finally got my hands on true music theory, thanks to the good pastor and his daughter; and my church, who gave my piano tutor transportation allowance to attend to me. For about five months I was guided by this young lady until it had to end as they migrated to the States (of America), and guess what, I was left with the responsibility of providing music for the church. 

Left with my third grade John Thompson book, I tried to study by myself the rest of the book. Upon finishing it, I got a hand-me-down fourth grade piano book which I painstakingly self-studied.

I played during worship, and prayer meetings, and other church fellowships. I was thankful every time a transient Seminary student would stay with the church and help me out in the handling of our church's music. They were many; and I sincerely thank them all. Today, thank God, our church has at least four pianists, including myself.

My choral stint is another story altogether which would eat a good amount of bytes. Maybe you guessed by now that I have been a willing victim to the repeated cycles where I get to be shoved on a job I hesitantly accepted. 

People have a knack of giving me huge responsibilities I never knew I could afford to carry; many thanks to the grace of the Lord. I guess it's my destiny. So I guess you have to be back to read all about it. Regards.