Mentors, Part 2

What distinguishes Pavarotti from Domingo, or from, say, the master of music candidate giving their umpteenth recital in the hopes of making it to the big leagues, the lead role in a Puccini or Donizetti opera?

Granted, you have to have the technique down. That’s a no brainer. If you can’t keep your notes in tune and zip through the virtuosic literature then you don’t stand a chance anywhere. That’s just practice, practice, practice. But there is one thing you cannot learn in the practice room, at least not all on your own: Musicianship.

Most of what I learned about musicianship I learned from one person, Richard “Dad” Hoffland. He and his wife labored over the Millikin University choir for many years, finally retiring in 1991. I had the fortune of singing under his direction for four tours. His musicianship was, in modern parlance, old school. If this link works, give it a try, if you want an example of his conducting. There wasn’t a composition that he would conduct that didn’t have something extra, something special, something undeniably and irrevocably influenced by the way he directed the choir. He had a certain “style” as it were. And the musicianship. Boy howdy. If you didn’t become a real musician just by singing under his baton, then you just simply weren’t paying attention.

What does this have to do with “Apostolic” music, you may be wondering? That is, if you have gotten this far, and didn’t stop reading immediately upon coming across the “O” word. People seem to have a special hatred for certain genres of music. The “O” word is high among the list.

If you can get past the occasional out-of-tune solos in some of our churches (I realize there are places where these are more the norm than occasional, perhaps due to some nepotic or otherwise inbred or lazy acculturative tendencies), and if you can get past the general unpreparedness some folks bring to their leading worship or singing specials (again, refer to the parenthetical comment above), and if the musicians are attentive to the singer, and the singer is able to get past the notes and get to the music, you may be able to hear what I mean. I imagine I will get some flack for not putting any emphasis here on the worship. That is fine and well deserved. I will address that in a future post.

Oh. And by the way, I don’t have a strong preference in the Pavarotti vs. Domingo argument. I like Domingo’s voice. I like Pavarotti’s bearing. Pavarotti is the king of the dramatic (overly or melodramatic, some would say) whereas Domingo is in a class all by himself. There’s a hundred of ‘em, if not a thousand, but the artiste verité is one in a million. Or a billion. For a representative comparison, give Domingo a listen, then listen to Pavarotti singing the same aria.