“It’s no small thing for 80 people to sing the same note,” says Jamie Kirsch, conductor of the Cambridge Community Chorus. He invests precious minutes at the beginning of each Monday night rehearsal helping his singers do just that.

Don’t worry—they get to sing other notes, too. The chorus is preparing for its Spring Concert on Sunday, May 17 at 3 p.m. at MIT’s Kresge Auditorium. They’ll sing Johannes Brahms's Schicksalslied, Op. 54 and the Requiem in C minor by Luigi Cherubini.

What could be simpler than getting everybody to sing the same note?

“Everybody stand, please. Nice deep breath."

The chorus practices in the basement of St. Bartholomew's Church on Harvard Street. Kirsch turns to rehearsal pianist David Richardson.

"Could we have an E below middle C, please?”

Richardson can play anything—soprano, alto, tenor and bass lines separately or simultaneously; he can stand in for a complete orchestra backing up the singers. But plunking out one note at a time is part of the job, too.

“Okay, there’s our E,” says Kirsch. “Don’t hum along! Now, let’s start with the basses. Could we hear that E again, David? Inhale, basses . . . pause . . . Now, on ‘ah’. . . softer. . . softer . . .drop your jaw . . . that’s a little better. Altos—an octave up. Listen to each other!”

Soon they’re all singing the same note, or at least within a hertz (cycle/sec) or two of each other—not a small thing. On to Cherubini.

Jamie Kirsch stepped into the post of Music Director at CCC last year following the retirement of beloved long-time conductor William E. Thomas. That change wasn’t a small thing, either. Thomas retired last spring after having led the group since it was founded in 1990.

Kirsch completed his Doctor of Music degree in 2008 at Indiana University; he holds degrees from the Yale School of Music and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He teaches at Thayer Academy in Braintree.

For both Kirsch and Thomas, the non-negotiable focus has been on musical values and on creating a sense of each composition within its own tradition. Like Thomas, Kirsch instantly spots weaknesses in the singing and bears down on them.

During rehearsal the wiry Kirsch is all over the place: reaching down to the ground to pull a deep note out of the bass section; grabbing an accent out of the air—"Pow!”—from the tenors; singing along with the altos in a pretty good falsetto; coaxing the sopranos into unity.

He works the group hard on pronunciation—the Cherubini is in Church Latin, the Brahms in German. And there are other nuts and bolts to master: the meaning of the text; the sudden changes from forte to pianissimo; the shifting rhythms.

After a little over an hour there's a pause for announcements by Chorus President Janet Rustow and Producer Jim Hickey. Volunteers Margaret Carver and Lisa McDonnell are applauded for a notably successful fund-raiser. A buzz of conversation rises, but people shush each other--no time for that.

"We'll take a break--let's see, it’s 8:26--we’re running a couple of minutes late here,” Kirsch says. “So grab a snack and relax until 8:41.”

After the break: Brahms. Schicksalslied is a setting of a poem by Friedrich Hölderlin--in English, “Song of Destiny.” The chorus wades into a passage about the ecstasy of the gods.

Suddenly. . . it happens. The singers are tuned to each other; the practising has done its job.

The stunning lyricism of the music takes over.

---------------------------

http://www.cambridgechorus.org/