At the end of a recent residential singing weekend I was acutely aware of absence when everyone had left. The silence was almost painful.
It got me thinking about the different kinds of silence in singing.
At the end of a recent residential singing weekend I was acutely aware of absence when everyone had left. The silence was almost painful.
It got me thinking about the different kinds of silence in singing.
Sometimes I come across a beautiful song and start searching online for a choral arrangement.
All too often, though, what I find is weighed down with so many bells and whistles that the original melody—the very thing that drew me to the song in the first place—ends up buried under the layers.
I had an interesting query from someone recently. In their choir, the tenor men sang the soprano part (an octave lower) and the soprano women sang the tenor part (an octave higher).
They asked me if there was any rule in choral music about which gender sang which part.
I often come across choir leaders asking for “men’s songs” for the men in their choirs.
It make me wonder: is there a difference between “men’s songs” and “women’s songs” and what does that even mean?
We often think of traditional songs from other cultures as just “out there” for the taking, to be used freely.
But every song was written by somebody, and every song is rooted in a particular culture and context. This hasn’t always been understood or acknowledged by those who have carried the songs into different contexts.
I’ve written before that even if it’s a folk song, somebody wrote it.

The identity of that individual may have been lost over time, but to honour the song, you still have the responsibility to try to find out who it was.