Monthly Archives: March 2012

Full disclosure: I am a member of the Manassas Chorale and have been since August, 2003, after I retired from teaching. My wife Becky directs the Chorale and, with the phenomenal help of some incredible people, has grown the group from about 30 singers 20 years ago to its present size of about 100 singers. I am also somehow a part of the select pull-out group of 30 singers, the Chorale Ensemble. We do harder music and sing in a number of smaller venues. All this is the most fun anyone can have indoors.

Part of the Chorale has made an annual trip in December to Bruton Parish Church in Williamsburg to sing as a part of their Candlelight Concert series for about a decade now. Generally about 60 singers make the trip and we finish the evening off with a dinner at a local restaurant. This past year, as we were singing in the altar area of the church, packed into the space very closely, I was surrounded by various vocal parts (which is how I prefer to sing SATB) and felt at one point as if I were a part of some large organism that breathed and moved together and produced the most wonderful sounds. Of course we have to breathe together to create a uniform sound and I’ve noticed that we tend to move in the same ways, even though we don’t do choreography. It was quite a revelation.

The people in the Chorale are some of the finest human beings I have ever had the pleasure to know. They are almost without exception witty, warm, intelligent, talented, good-looking, faith-filled, responsible, community conscious and devoted to their families. It has been my distinct pleasure to come to know many of them.

This past weekend we experienced Voices United 2012, an annual choral event sponsored by the Chorale. Nearly 130 singers came together for a six-hour workshop with composer and musician Joseph M. Martin, who has written 1500 songs with 15 million copies out there. Martin conducted a seminar not only with the six songs that the VU 2012 Choir sang but also about the relationship between the arts in general and society. He considered music and its relationship to society and culture, talking about the interconnections between and among music, writing, visual art, sculpture, architecture, dance, photography, etc. He could very well teach a graduate level course on art and society.

Joseph talked about one of his anthems, “O Love that Will Not Let Me Go,” as being operatic in nature. It tells a story (of salvation), begins with the statement of a theme both musically and theologically (the “A” part), shifts to a minor treatment of the motif, a variation (or the “B” part), reaches the climax of the story (the Resurrection) with the restatement of the “A” section and closes with a coda, again both musically and narratively. Wow. To do this justice would require a recording of the text and an image of the music score, both of which would violate copyright provisions, so I must leave them out. If you’re interested you can go to   http://www.jwpepper.com/10090346.item#viewer-tab and click on the “sample audio” button for a sample of the song.

Martin also  considered  the creative process, not only about music but also about the poetry he writes for lyrics to the songs. Much of what he said is good practice for any writer: working in odd pockets of time, revising, considering the freight and sound and heft of words, insisting on exactly the right word, and so on.

It was quite the weekend. I hope to explore some of these ideas further in future Biscuit City posts.

Shakespeare was a total genius. (Late news just in!) Not only could he write plays and sonnets with the best of them, he could write better plays and sonnets than his contemporaries, and of course he is the gold standard by which all other writers are judged (and fall short).

At that time there were certain conventions in play-writing and poetry which lesser poets observed religiously. Shakespeare didn’t. He used the forms and traditions while at the same time working incredible changes on them. Example: Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy, correct? Lots of killing and the “star cross’d lovers” tragically dead at the end. (I think they’re a couple of hormonal idiots, but that’s just me.) The change Shakespeare rings on the play is that it begins as a comedy (there are lovers separated by an obstacle–the families’ feud–who nonetheless come together with the help of not one but two tricky servants (the Nurse, Friar Lawrence) and there is a wedding. Up until Romeo kills himself, the play could have been a comedy (I know, Tybalt and Mercutio die, but they’re collateral damage of sorts. And hot-headed fools.). In fact, the Victorians hated sad endings and so re-wrote the last scene. Juliet wakes up in time; Romeo doesn’t kill himself and they run away and live happily ever after. But the ending as originally written is, you know, tragic.

Same thing with the sonnets. The tradition form and themes are worked with and worked over. The sonnet tradition said, “Tell us what love is in your sonnet.” William Shakespeare said, “Because I am an overwhelming genius, I will tell you what love is not in my sonnet.” And he did:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

I know, I know, the demographic for Biscuit City is not exactly one that will be taking the SAT (I’m not sure just what the demographic for BC is, but I somehow think it doesn’t include a lot of high school readers). Anyhow,  I figure some of you have children or grandchildren who are taking the test so I thought this week’s writing advice should be about taking the essay portion of the SAT. Or maybe you’re headed for college for the first time at age 83. Good for you! Rock on!

I would consider myself an expert at what makes a good SAT essay without bragging  since I have personally scored over 100,000 of the writings. I can’t say how or why I was able to do this or we’d all have to go under the Witness Protection to prevent a large and anonymous company from finding us and making us the victims of “extreme renditions” to obscure places like Newark or Bangor.

So we’ll just assume I know what I’m talking about. That said, here are my tips for writing a good SAT essay:

1. Answer the prompt! Stay on the subject. Essays peripherally connected to the subject count, but I wouldn’t stray too far afield. If the subject is the influence of media on culture, don’t write about your lacrosse career.

2. Be specific! Use examples and stories. Factual accuracy does not count in this test so you can make up facts (“Benjamin Franklin invented the light bulb”), but it doesn’t make scorers happy. The College Board says this is a test of writing and critical thinking, not of factual recall. But the better writers get it right. I’m just sayin’.

3, Don’t waste time doing a rough draft. You’re writing a timed test, not the Great American Novel. Jot down a few ideas if you need to, and then write.

4. Be organized. Transitions are your friends. Do a quick outline or web or jot list or whatever makes you happy. Don’t take all day doing it, though.

5. If you see you’re running out of time and you’re not finished, start throwing down ideas. If it’s there, the scorers can count it. If it’s still in your mind they can’t read that, as good as they might be.

6. Remember the test is one of critical thinking. Show some evidence of that, somehow.

7. Reserve the last one to two minutes for proofreading. Spelling errors and miswritings don’t count against you, but they don’t help, either.

8. Relax and enjoy yourself. Make us proud!

9. Practice before the test. There are sample prompts and papers on line Write, write, write! Good luck!

 Voices United 2012, sponsored by the Manassas Chorale, will take place this Saturday, March 10 at 7:30 PM in Merchant Hall at the Hylton Performing Arts Center, with composer Joseph Martin leading the 150-voice Voices United Choir in a selection of his arrangements. Joe is one of the leading composers of choral music today with over 1200 compositions to his credit. He is also a phenomenal piano player and will play one piece during the concert. 

The first half of the concert will feature the 100-voice Manassas Chorale under the direction of Artistic Director Becky Verner in a program of anthems written, composed or arranged by Joseph Martin. Don’t miss this annual event of great and moving music! http://www.manassaschorale.org/home.aspx http://hyltoncenter.org/ http://www.martin88.com/ 

I read to my daughter Amy’s fourth grade class on Read Across America day and also for Mary Ruth Spencer’s class (loved her Cat in the Hat hat!) at Signal Hill Elementary.

I chose part of biography about Amelia Earhart and read the last chapter,  about her last attempt to fly around the world at the equator. Then I taught the class the chorus to a song that was popular right after her disappearance in 1939, “Amelia Earhart’s Last Flight” and we sang it together. I was amazed at how well-behaved the kids were and how well they sang.

I also had a chance to watch the teachers and students in action. The kids move through the halls to French or P.E. or lunch and are orderly and quiet. Kudos to the teachers and staff at this school, at any elementary school or any school for that matter for the amazing job they are doing nurturing and instructing the future. All you guys–students, teachers, staff, wherever you are–ROCK THE HOUSE!

I’ll be back next year! Thanks!

Here’s a link to the original song by “Red River Dave.” Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAvtHMJS1O8

I was reminded of this poem yesterday when our papers landed in a puddle and, in spite of being in a plastic bag, ended up soaked. I had to spread them out to dry on the deck railings and was reminded of the image in this poem,” Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair/ Before them over their heads to dry in the sun,” a sight not often seen in these days of electric hair dryers.

“Birches” is not as well known at “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” or “The Road Less Traveled,” but well worth a read.

WHEN I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
(Now am I free to be poetical?)
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows—
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father’s trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

When I am around other writers, they sometimes will talk about having “writer’s block” or experiencing difficulty writing. I feel their pain, having experienced this from time to time myself. I heard a writer once answer the question, “What do you do about writer’s block?” He said, “I lower my standards and keep on going!” He went on to say that he could always revise what he had written when he got his mojo back (my words, not his–he said, “When I’m able to write well again”).

I think a key is also to write at the same time, in the same place if you can do it. I’ve known writers who are still working at their day jobs who get up early (4 AM for example) and put in three or four hours before heading to work. Others who can’t manage a block of time (like me, even though I am retired) will write whenever and wherever they can. That’s what I tend to do although most of my writing is done on our desktop in the “computer room” (AKA the glass-enclosed nerve center of the Biscuit City Network–a fiction of my mind, I have to admit). If I can’t use that, I have a laptop and email the files to myself so I can have them on the desktop. I don’t like to carry a laptop around when I’m running errands, so I will end up putting down ideas or phrases or even paragraphs on notecards if I have one or scraps of paper if one is available or my hand (the original Palm Pilot–ar, ar). I could carry my writer’s notebook but I’m afraid of losing that after I misplaced it for a month because I took it to church and left it there and forgot about it.

I’ve also talked recently with another writer about the usefulness of deadlines to move the process along. I along with others  always want to change what I’ve done, fiddle with it, make it better. A deadline puts a stop to that, although deadlines do result in some late nights and close calls. I do have a deadline for my Observer column although my editor is very understanding. I still try to respect deadlines so I don’t inconvenience the publication which has to meet a publishing deadline.

And if I want to change something that has been published, I can always put a “director’s cut” here. I can do that because I write short pieces that will fit into a blog space, although I don’t really know how long these posts can be. I haven’t written pieces that are that long. It is possible to re-do a book, but you have to be Stephen King or someone like that to do so.

One author said it well about finishing a work when he remarked, “I never finish a piece: I simply give up on it.”

So good luck to all those of us trying to finish pieces and meet deadlines. I hope you’re able to do so, and that you don’t have to give up on them! Keep writing!