Trial by Fire: Sight singing Bach

In many ways, sight singing music is similar to reading a written text out-loud for the first time. You must vocalize what you see in the instant that you see it, and be correct.  Both written texts and notated music come in a variety of complexity levels and styles.  Reading aloud an instruction manual is quite a different experience than e.e. cummings.  Likewise, it takes different skills to sight-read rhythmically complex Latin music than Benjamin Britten’s choral music. 

            As a choir teacher, it’s my responsibility to build my student’s music-reading skills, which includes sight singing.  Sight singing is a job skill for all musicians, and if you have mastered it, can open doorways to great job opportunities.

Look at all those freaking 16th notes!!

I have always been a strong sight-singer, but my experience with Bach put those supposed strengths to the test.  In my 2^nd year at USU, I found myself in an ensemble learning Bach’s St. John Passion: a dynamic oratorio-style work involving orchestra, soloists, and choir. Take a look above to see how hard this piece is (and mind you, this excerpt is not performed at a slow tempo.)  Dr. Craig Jessop led these rehearsals, and his method of teaching this repertoire is to throw you in headfirst.  And I had to learn how to swim!  I remember it was intellectually stressful and exciting to try to keep up.  After this experience, I think I have developed a list of things I can teach my students in their quest to become better sight-singers.

  

Think in Intervals

This means hearing in your mind exactly what a Perfect 4^th, tritone, or minor 6^th sound like when you see them on the page.  Having memory tricks can really help when you are first learning.  For example, “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean” begins with a major 6^th, or “Here Comes the Bride” starts with a Perfect 4^th.  If you are not thinking in intervals, large leaps in music are terrifying!

Think in Keys

This piece of advice is akin to understanding Solfege or scale degrees.  This means knowing that the first note of the scale is Do, or scale degree 1, and so forth.  Once you know the key of a piece you are sight singing, it’s easy to understand how all the pitches relate to “do”

Split into Components

If the rhythm and pitches together are too much to sight-read all at once, try splitting up the parts. Just speak the rhythm without pitches first.  Or, try singing the pitches without any rhythm first.  Usually the former is more successful.

Look for Patterns:

Often music contains rhythmic or melodic patterns that repeat over and over again.  Why do the work of reading every note when you can read a couple of groups?

Check your part against the other parts

A good way to check for accuracy is by noticing how your part relates to the other parts.  If the music indicates you should be in unison with the tenors, but you are not, something is obviously wrong!  It’s a great reference point.

Be bold

Just try something.  Every new skill requires a period of uncertainty and fear.  Pick a note, and sing it loud and proud!  If you’re right, you’ll help everybody.  If you’re wrong, it will be hilarious.

The Struggling Readers Among Us

I consider myself a good reader of academic texts.  Ever since I was a child, I have noticed that I read faster and more deeply than my peers in class.  As a preface, I do not intend this blog post to come across as boastful, not in the slightest.  In fact, the blog post reveals my judgmental nature of other readers that I am currently dispelling. 

As a child, I specifically remember that reading scriptures aloud in Sunday school classes was an exercise in frustration.  This frustration was not a result of confusion, but frustration with others reading styles.  I assumed that others reading styles were a sign of laziness or apathy.  I now realize that isn’t the case.  A recent experience will explain what I mean:

I was in a small group in a class, taking turns reading an article out loud.  The other members of the group seemed to be having trouble understanding what they were reading, and hearing them read aloud illuminated why.  Their inflection and emphasis was equal for every single word, making a monotone inflection.  I also noticed that they didn’t take pauses for commas and periods, slurring all the phrases together into a paragraph-long string of words.  When they did take breaks, it was only for a break in the line on the page.  I found myself having a difficult time understanding the content when they read in this fashion.  In contrast, another member of our group read differently.  She gave inflection emphasis to key words in the sentence.  She grouped together important ideas by not taking a breath.  She also took a pause when the sentence began a new idea.  When he read, I could understand the content. If there are students that are reading to themselves in the monotone, pauseless fashion I described, no wonder they can’t understand the content; they are reading just to sound out the word.  This experience was illuminating, and gave me a new perspective on struggling readers who will be my students.   

            Through my education classes, I realize that my comfort in reading was not a result of my natural ability, but parents and teachers.  Reading was a part of my home, and my parents read a loud to us often as children.  I didn’t know it at the time, but I must have had teachers that really worked with my learning style to help me understand reading at a deep level.  I’m grateful that I was raised that way at home and at school. 

            Reading is rarely a part of the choir classroom.  However, I know that music teachers can reach out to students more deeply than other teachers can.  I hope my future students can ask me for help on assignments from other classes because of this deep connection.  When I was in high school, my choir teacher acted as a school counselor, tutor, and faux-therapist for my peers and I.

If I understand a bit more on how to support struggling readers, I can help my students, no matter what subject.