Friends in high and unlikely places September 22, 2009

So sometimes, I tend to get extremely overwhelmed by barbershop. Mostly, this is because i have no idea how to convey to people how much I love it and how much it means to me. Also, it seems a little strange that it’s so specific. Like, I could be just in love with singing in general, or by karaoke or something, but no, I have to be utterly obsessed with barbershop. It’s just weird.

However, in the barbershop community, it is completely normal. I challenge you to find someone in this organization who is just sort of so-so about barbershop. Someone who can say “eh, I can live with or without it. It’s just sort of a hobby.” No. That’s not the way it works. You may not be obsessed with it when you enter the org, but you sure as hell are after two months, if not after one visit.

So, here is my absolutely fantastic barbershop story for the day.

About a year ago, this woman in my chorus said something like, “oh, you’re going to Evergreen? You should look for this police officer who sings barbershop, Tom or Tim or something… I can’t remember his last name.” Of course I thought, “well, gee, isn’t that specific,” and I didn’t try too hard to find him. Plus, their uniforms just say their last names, so I didn’t have much to go on, and I didn’t want to go to Police Services and ask for some guy who sang barbershop. ha.

So today I was sitting at the Student Activities fair with my roommate. I was representing the CPJ and the Police Services booth was right next to ours. She pointed at the officer who was at that table, and said that she’s heard him sing at this drug and alcohol presentation thing she’d gone to, and that he was quite good. Then I heard the EIC and biz manager of the CPJ talking to him and calling him Tim.

Long story short, once everyone left, I said to him, “so, I hear you sing,” and he said, “yeah,” and I said, “do you sing barbershop, by any chance?”

He said, “Barbershop is my life.”

And with stars in my eyes, I’m sure, I said, “meee toooo!”

Thus began a long conversation during which we discovered that we know many of the same people, but it turns out that he’s actually WAYYYY high up in the organization and so is his wife, so he’s, like, friends with the lead of OC Times and stuff, and coaches by ex-director’s quartet and stuff.

MY GOD am I excited. I never want to talk to people at Evergreen about Sweet Adelines, because let’s face it, it’s just weird. Sequins and energetic faces? Definitely not Evergreen-ish. So I cannot tell you how amazing it is to have this resource and be familiar with this guy. Unfortunately, it’s led to a bit of a stalking tangent on my part, so I found this video of his quartet (two of the members are former Kings, which means that they have won International before. Five times, in fact. SO amazing). Enjoy :)

… and I just read back over that post, and it’s awful. I think the more excited I get about something, the less articulate I am. So, I’m sorry about that. But I’m not going to change it because you all deserve to see my blunders.

The Reason I Go to Chorus July 28, 2009

“This,” the director said, snatching a chorus member’s papers, “is not music.” He threw it on the floor. “Music exists only in this immediate moment.”

I smiled in understanding, but I don’t think he saw me. And the evening went on.

(*)*(*)*(*)

A cappella singing is like no other, and barbershop is a special branch that I hold dear. The four parts, from lowest to highest, are bass, baritone, lead, and tenor. The lead part has the melody of the song, and the three other parts are harmony (bass usually as a vocal rhythm, baritone weaving around the melody, and tenor trilling at the top). I usually sing tenor, but one chorus needed basses and I had the ability, so that’s what I sang—and I’m a better tenor for it. It takes so much to be able to produce chords in these choruses. Fundamentally, everyone must be on pitch, but the actual correct singing requires much more: First, one must breathe deeply and in the right place (into the base of the lungs, without raising the shoulders). Next, one must create proper vowel shape with the mouth (there are actually many different ways to say the “oh” sound, for instance) and make sure it matches the other singers’ mouth shape. The singer also has to use “resonation chambers” in the body. It’s like we’re cathedrals, and if you want the best sound you have to sing in the stone hall instead of in the bathroom; you have to sing into the sinus cavities and as if the crown of your head is the Tacoma Dome.

After you create the right note by achieving all that (constantly, and while keeping correct posture and foot position, remembering notes, words, and maybe even choreography, and smiling), your part relies on the others to do the same so that the whole chord may “lock.” Even if every person is technically hitting the right note, the chord may not lock—they must also be doing everything to be actually singing correctly. Then, even if the chord has locked, it may not ring (but that’s unusual).

It may seem too hit-and-miss to even bother trying. But when a chord rings, and when you’re able to hear it while singing rather than just knowing it because of the pleased director, it’s the most rewarding feeling in the world. Ringing chords creates overtones, which are notes above the chord that no one is actually singing. They’re clearly audible—it’s not just a mind trick—but also surreal, because for all the work it took to produce the actual chord, no one singer is creating the overtone. It takes the entire group, and those overtones are what we always strive for. When we don’t have an actual audience, the overtones are like the heavens’ applause.

[This is a very short excerpt from the final paper I wrote for my class in our last quarter. As with all the content on my blog, please do not reproduce it in any way, except perhaps with proper citation :) If you ask me, I'd probably be happy to give my permission!]

“Final Thoughts” July 16, 2008

This was part of a compilation of articles that all the senior editors (including me) of my high school newspaper wrote. The newspaper was ending, not just for the year, but until further notice. We were all heartbroken (even though we were all seniors and would be leaving anyway). We produced a fantastic paper and were very disappointed to hear that it would end after we left. So this is the “goodbye” article I wrote for the last edition of our paper, The Illuminati.

It was when I starter daydreaming about fantastic article leads like this one that I realised I wanted to go into journalism as a career. Leads can usually be placed in one of the following categories: sappy, questioning, ZAP!, yawn, news, bitter, me me me, you you you, or a combination of those.

For your entertainment, since you will never read another lead from me in The Illuminati, I will give you some outtakes for this article:

Sappy: Well, we editors have come a long way, but it’s time to put an end to the magic.

Questioning: What does one do when the publishing of her favorite paper comes to an end?

ZAP!: My beloved paper! Gone! No more! It is an ex-paper!

Yawn: Mrs. Smith just told us there might not be a paper next year.

News: On May 5, 2008, Journalism/Yearbook adviser Jane Smith announced the potential end of The Illuminati for the ‘08-’09 school year.

Bitter: As if just not writing for the paper anymore weren’t enough, the administration has decided to shut down our precious paper altogether.

Me, me, me: I could die – I don’t know what will become of me if I can’t see my name in my school’s paper anymore!

You, you, you. You never know what you have until you have it taken away from you, and you won’t know how much you’ll miss the paper until you’re not reading it anymore.

And so on, and so forth.

The lead of an article is “a short summary serving as an introduction to a news story, article or other copy,” but you’ve probably figured that out. Obviously, the lead is probably the most important part of a story. It can make or break the other 500 words of an article, or it can make or break every reader’s opinion of the author.

The lead is “a guide or indication of a road, course, method, etc., to follow.” I can’t remember writing my first lead ever, but I’m sure while writing I wasn’t thinking it would automatically lead to my primary career choice. Or life in general.

The lead: an observation, some inspiration, a motivation. Fuel for action. Reason for change. A cause for the effect. The question for the resolution. Or, the roadmap for the action. The plan for the plot.

The body: The supporting scene. Details. Specifics. A blow-by-blow of conflicts. Whatever makes the outcome worthwhile. Everything that gives meaning to the point. An argument. A testimony of passion. An explanation, a legacy.

The conclusion: … I’ll be honest – I don’t know yet.

And what happens after? We begin again, of course. For there will always be another deadline or another incentive. Then begins the new cycle of creativity, of excitement and of craziness. Just like life, everything keeps moving. It may be disorderly (everyone has that really yucky, disappointing article every once in a while), and the outcome may be completely unsatisfactory.

As some great young prophet said, “any blank piece of paper is a world to be created, an idea to be stated or and emotion to be conveyed… [it's] a canvas just like Life; it’s ours to do with what we wish; it’s reserved for our imagination.”

So here we all are, each writing just one more lead for our adored Illuminati, paradoxically choosing the best beginning to end our editorial reign, choosing the best conclusion to commence the rest of our lives.

… And there you have it. That is all my work; I would appreciate it if no one stole any part of it. Thank you.