My Most Meaningful Mentor

This is a difficult choice, since I've been lucky to have some wonderful teachers and mentors. For example, Neil Lieurance was an influential teacher—without him I probably wouldn't have made a career as a conductor. Neil died this past year at the too-young age of 70. I wrote about him here. But beyond his influence in HS, Neil immediately treated me like a colleague after I graduated and began my undergraduate studies at the University of Washington—I'd visit and he'd share whatever music and recordings were interesting him. He followed my work with early ensembles I conducted and was always willing to give advice. He was a true mentor.

 

Rod Eichenberger, my undergraduate conducting teacher (although he let me take part in the graduate conducting class as an undergrad), has been another great teacher and mentor. I started hanging around his office and listening to his conversations with the grad students around my junior year (among them Bruce Browne and Larry Marsh) and he told me if I'd file the large stacks of scores for him, I could keep any duplicates. This not only gave me the beginning of my personal library but a great overview of choral literature—if I filed a piece by Hindemith, I'd look through the file to see what else Hindemith wrote for chorus. And, like Neil, he remained a mentor long after I graduated (to the current day, in fact). When I took the job at Pacific Lutheran University, following Maurice Skones, he called and congratulated me, but also said, "As someone who followed Charles Hirt at USC, I know something about the challenges of following a legend. If you ever want to call and talk, don't hesitate." This was a gift . . . and a relationship that has continued up to the present.

 

But for this post about my most meaningful mentor, I'll speak of Eric Ericson. Eric was never my teacher, but has undeniably been a major influence on my music-making, repertoire, and approach to so many things.

 

I was aware of Eric's recordings from at least the early '70s (Neil Lieurance or Rod probably introduced me to them). I was fascinated with the amazing sound of his Chamber Choir and the Swedish Radio Choir, the purity of their intonation, and the repertoire they performed. In 1983 at the ACDA Conference I heard the Radio Choir live for the first time. And since I'd just auditioned for the DMA program at CCM, was invited by John Leman to join the masterclass conducting choir and got to observe Eric's teaching first-hand.

 

The following fall I began at PLU and in 1985 Bruce Browne called and said Eric's Conservatory Chamber Choir would be performing at the ISME conference in Eugene, OR and wanted some other opportunities for the choir. So I built the PLU Summer Choral Workshop around Eric and the choir. They were in San Francisco before coming to Tacoma, so Eric flew up and the choir came a day later on their tour bus. This was my first time to get to know Eric, watch him work on conducting technique with the whole group and a small group of master class conductors who worked with the Chamber Choir. It was an amazing experience.

 

About a year later I participated as a singer in a choir put together by Bruce Browne for his Haystack Workshop for which Eric was the clinician, I brought Eric and the Conservatory Chamber Choir back to PLU's summer workshop a few years later as well.

 

When I began thinking of a topic for my dissertation, I knew it would be about Swedish choral music, so I traveled for the first time to Sweden in April of 1989, where I searched for "the" topic, and Eric was the guide, introducing me to lots of people and resources. I sublet the apartment of one of his wife Monica's sons. I would then return for the full summer of 1990 to do research (and sublet the apartment of another of Monica’s son’s). Given the topic of my dissertation, Swedish A Cappella Music Since 1945 (published later here) I spoke with Eric numerous times, spent time in the Radio’s library, spent time going through Eric’s personal library of scores in his apartment, and Eric made connections for interviews with virtually every important choral composer of the this time period, plus many conductors and administrators.

 

I’ve also seen Eric work many times with his various choirs in rehearsal, recording sessions, and concerts. He was also the first conductor with a group of singers that would become Choral Arts. I’ve had numerous discussions with him (and those close to him) about his art. Eric was eternally curious about anything choral—always wanted to know what you were doing, what others he knew were doing, what repertoire you were doing (and it wasn’t easy to stump him about a huge range of rep: “Oh yes, I did that in the late ‘60s" or (about some obscure American piece), "Yes, I know that."

 

It’s hard to separate out all aspects of Eric as mentor, but so many opportunities have come from my work with him. There’s so much repertoire I’ve learned due to him. Approaches to sound (even though few of us have the level of voices of the Radio or Chamber choirs), and intonation have also come from him. And incredibly important is his work ethic and dedication. Eric lived for music and this showed in his every approach to music, music-making, and his choirs.

 

I owe him an immense debt. And thanking all my teachers and mentors, I hope I have been a mentor to those students and conductors I’ve come worked with over the years. That will certainly continue as long as I’m able to help. It’s an important way of giving back all that I (or you!) have been given over the years.

 

ACDA has a great new mentoring program and I hope you’ll consider being a mentor or mentee. Make sure you check it out!

 

(Will you one day be someone’s most meaningful mentor? Plant the seeds today for tomorrow's choral world. ACDA Mentoring.

Books Worth Your Time VII

For this blog series I started out with the idea of alternating books on music with books on other subjects. But I've realized that most of the great music books are fairly well known or are are so specific that they might have limited interest (maybe I'll combine some in a post later).

So I'm going on with books on other subjects that I hope you'll find of interest.

Next we go to Daniel Coyle's The Little Book of Talent--52 Tips for Improving Your Skills. Coyle is the author of The Talent Code, a book I can also recommend.

Coyle is a journalist who, for an article, researched places—training centers, camps, charter schools, etc.—which created a much higher level of talented people than others ("hotbeds of talent"). He also visited with scientists doing research, notably K. Anders Ericsson from Florida State University, who coined the term "deliberate practice" to describe a very focused, intense type of practice (it's also his research that led to the "10,000 hour rule," which Malcolm Gladwell popularized in his book, Outliers, the Story of Success). And if you want to know more about deliberate practice (it's worth it), this article has some great links.

Honestly, all of those books are worth reading, but The Little Book of Talent is exactly that, a little book, the hardback edition the physical size of a paperback, 119 pages long. Since Coyle himself is a "father, volunteer basketball coach, and husband of a hockey-playing wife," while he did his research he wondered about all sorts of practical problems:

As a family, we struggled daily with the usual questions and anxieties that revolve around the process of acquiring and developing skills. How do we help our daugher learn her multiplication tables? Howe do we tell a genuine talent from a momentary interest? What's the best way to spark motivation? . . . As it turned out, visiting these remarkable places was not just a chance for me to be a journalist. It was also a chance to become a better coach and a better dad.

So, he started taking notes when he spotted a great tip for teaching or learning. And those notes became the basis for this book, divided into several categories (his words quoted below):

1. Getting Started: ideas for igniting motivation and creating a blueprint for the skills you want to build.
2. Improving Skills: methods and techniques for making the most progress in the least time.
3. Sustaining Progress: strategies for overcoming plateaus, keeping motivational fires lit, and building habits for long-term success.

Tip #1 is "stare at who you want to become." This is about using role models—those people who already can do those things you'd like to be able to do—and truly and deeply observe what they do and how they do it (in Coyle's words, "the kind of raw, unblinking, intensely absorbed gazes you see in hungry cats or newborn babies"). For example, very early on I started to focus on and track how the conductor of the choir rehearsed (Rod Eichenberger was my undergrad teacher). After doing this for awhile, I would try to guess what Rod was going to do when he stopped the choir. Would he address pitch, rhythm, sound, intonation, phrasing? Did he stop to address the altos or the tenors? And I got pretty good at knowing what he was going to do. I was not analyzing what he was doing—I didn't write things down or classify the kinds of things he'd did. I was simply absorbing how he prioritized in a rehearsal and, of course, was listening intently to what the choir did. And in doing this, I was absorbing a chunk of his rehearsal technique without thinking about it consciously. I continued to do this with any conductor I worked with and could often start to catch on to what a conductor would most likely do after a relatively short period of time. This was even true when I visited Wilhelm Ehmann in Germany when I was 21. I didn't understand any German at that time, but could still begin to make good guesses at what he'd do after even a few days. We all have people we admire. Don't be afraid to do all possible to absorb what they do.

Tip #15, "break every move down into chunks."

Every skill built out of smaller pieces—what scientists call chunks.

Chunks are to skill what letters of the alphabet are to language. Alone, each is nearly useless, but when combined into bigger chunks (words), and when those chunks are combined into still bigger things (sentences, paragraphs), they can build something complex and beautiful. . .

. . . ask yourself:

1. What is the smallest single element of this skill that I can master?
2. What other chunks link to that chunk?

Practice on chunk by itself until you've mastered it—then connect more chunks, one by one . . .

. . . Musicians at Meadowmount [one of his hotbeds of talent] cut apart musical scores with scissors and put the pieces into a hat, then pull each section out at random. Then, after the chunks are learned separately, they start combining them in the correct order, like so many puzzle pieces. "It works because the students aren't just playing the music on autopilot—they're thinking," says one of the school's violin instructors, Skye Carman.

In teaching vocal skills, most teachers separate out elements of good singing—posture, breathing, onset of tone, vowels, etc.—and work on each separately, then combine in order, since breath builds on posture, etc.. However, I found the Meadowmout idea fascinating and it reminded me of some aspects of Eric Ericson's rehearsal technique. He'd often take a piece and work on just one section of it in a rehearsal (the one that needed most work, of course!). But over the course of the rehearsals, all would gradually fit together and make sense.

Re-reading that little tip was already worth it for me! See if the book can offer you some ideas as well.

Interrupting our current program . . . (Eric Ericson)

I finally found my copy of Ron Jeffers' notes from attending a workshop with Eric Ericson. These are fantastic and illustrate many aspects of Eric's art, so I thought it worthwhile to interrupt my current blog series on worthwhile reading to give this. As the pdf states, it's from a workshop in 1981 (Haystack is a large rock--shaped like a Haystack--at Cannon Beach, OR).

Most of you will know Ron as the owner of publisher earthsongs or for his (invaluable--and this really is a book you want on your shelf!) book on translations of Latin texts (or the follow-ups in other languages by different authors). But you may not know that Ron was an absolutely first-rate choral conductor at Oregon State University and other places.

Well, so I did recommend a book after all!

Enjoy Ron's notes!

Learning from Eric Ericson VIII - Stefan Parkman

Stefan Parkman has had a long association with Eric. Born in 1952, he first studied medicine, but began singing with Eric in Orphei Drängar in the early '70s. Just a few years later he began his studies in the Royal College of Music. Stefan's an exceptionally fine tenor (listen here or buy the album here to hear his solo in "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square"--conducted by Robert Sund, by the way) who's regularly sung the Evangelist role in Bach's St. John Passion--often while conducting the performance! Consequently, he began at that time to sing as an extra (but ended up singing most projects) for both the Chamber Choir and Radio Choir, and that continued until probably the late '80s. For example, he sang in the Radio Choir for their big US tour in 1983, when they sang for the National ACDA Conference in Nashville. In 1989 he became conductor of the Danish Radio Choir and that ended most of his singing with Eric. Some of his recordings can be found here.

 

In a conversation on March 29 he talked about characteristics of Eric and his ways of working:

• His curiosity was insatiable and he was always eager to find new ways of solving problems, loved to explore new music, and always wondered, "how can we make this better?"
• He always worked up until the last second until either the concert or broadcast, not giving up on making it better. "We could all hear that something was out of tune, but he had the curiosity to find keys and tools to solve the problem."
• With his Chamber Choir he could work longer than with the Radio Choir, which was state-run and had to follow strict rules. With the Chamber Choir he would just go on working as long as he felt he needed. Today, people wouldn't accept that, but he was in the right time to be able to do that.
• About his piano playing: "I don't think that any singer or choir can sound as beautiful as when Eric played the piano."
• About his conducting and teaching of conducting: "He always tried to find ways to conduct that are comfortable and good for singers. In this his gestures (and playing) were very vocal. He wanted to wave his arms and hands in such a way that it allows the singers to produce the sound."
• "He never talked much about text or its interpretation, but I later realized he'd thought about it and it was addressed by his hands or way of rehearsing."
• "His choral sound was orchestral and homogeneous, a combination of beauty of sound and intonation."
• New music: "This is a large part of his curiosity, of course. It's not unique, but during his time was unusual."
• What he learned from Eric: "Gesture that gives both singers and instrumentalists time to breathe, to get their instruments going. In concerts, a vocally wonderful way of conducting. The never-ending eagerness to find solutions. And I can't conduct a piece such as Friede auf Erden, for example, without thinking of Eric, having sung it so many times with him. That doesn't mean my interpretation will be the same--he always expected us to do it in our own way--but learning it and so many other great works with him made a huge impact."

While I'm sure there could be more to say, I'll finish up next week with a summary about Eric and his work. After that, a summer hiatus!

Learning from Eric Ericson VII - Arne Lundmark

Arne Lundmark is the manager for the Swedish Radio Choir, a fine singer, and voice teacher. He's the baritone soloist on a recording of Sven-David Sandström's Etyd, som e-moll (if you get a chance, listen to it--gorgeous!). I was able to write Arne and ask about his experiences with Eric when a member of Eric's chamber choir and after. Here it is:

 

When did you first work with Eric? I studied at the Piteå College of Music so didn't work with Eric earlier in my career. I joined the Eric Ericson Chamber Choir in 1982 after moving to Stockholm. I was a regular member of EECC from 1982 -1992, and did some projects as an extra with both the Swedish Radio Choir and EECC during the years when I started working at the Radio, from 1992-2005.

 

What is characteristic of Eric and his work as conductor: What I was most fascinated by was his very clever way of expressing himself, both with his words and with his hands. And also the way he gave us a picture of the musical character and the harmonic context by sitting at the piano and letting his magic fingers point out the important notes and passages. He had an outstanding way of describing things that was his very own. And as a world class story teller, he obviously used that as a very efficient tool to have break in the rehearsal and get everybody on track and in the mood again.

It was quite frankly "messy" at rehearsals sometimes, and I have to admit that sometimes he spent so much time of tuning the choir so that learning the notes was a bit neglected! His conducting was very much about phrasing the musical line with the most undescribable gestures that everyone for some reason understood. In the concert itself I often had the feeling that all his love to music suddenly was shown and we were willing to give him all he asked for.

And I also have to say that Eric's way of using brilliant metaphors to get the right character is one thing I wish that our conductors would learn from.

 

What’s special about his sound? Is it part of a “Swedish” or “Scandinavian” sound? It's hard to tell. I think the combination of well trained, partly soloistic voices and the idea of all coming together in a transparent and well tuned way for the a cappella was the recipe for a good sound. Whether it was Scandinavian or not I can´t say, but Eric was anyway a pioneer.

What was most remarkable about him? The way he made choir singing go from a social phenomenon into a respected art form. And also how he succeded in attracting good voices to choir singing. That was a unique thing and maybe the first reason why the EECC had such a reputation.

 

Special memories of Eric? There are hundreds of stories, but one other thing that I will not forget is a moment when we invited him at the age of 92 to conduct the Radio Choir in a workshop. He made a fantastic work with some songs of Peterson- Berger. And on the stage he gave us all his blessings with some very touching words.

 

Learning from Eric Ericson VI - Watch!

There aren't many examples of Eric conducting on the net, but here's one with him recording with the Real Group (all the original singers sang as students with him--when he came to Pacific Lutheran University in the mid-80s with his Conservatory Chamber Choir they'd been working together for a while and all were members of that choir).

 

Enjoy!

Learning from Eric Ericson V - Conducting Technique II

This continues my notes from several sessions on conducting by Eric Ericson done for the Haystack Workshop in Oregon.

 

Ericson - Day 2

1) “caress” the air as if through water, then make attacks (not in a pattern) gradually more marked , then back to caressing motion - check to see that your shoulder muscles stay relaxed as you beat more marcato

 

2) he then does other exercises to show changes in the size of the beat:

• 5/8
• 7/8
• 6/8

3) more exercises for "co-ordination of opposites" conduct 3 (3/4), but count 2 (6/8)

("now walk around - not in tempo - just gentle")

 

4) conduct 2 (6/8) count 3 (3/4)

 

5) do both exercises 3 and 4, counting legatissimo, beating marcato (and vice versa)

 

6) more exercises for left hand independence:

• 4/4 giving cues
• one conductor is in front of class, conducts 4, cues with l.h. at his or her choice - group responds with “bop” ( if short), "bah" (if conductor indicates long)

(E. says you could also try to cue one side of the chorus with a nod from the head , the other with the l.h.)

 

7) E. improvises, asks everyone to change character with the music

then speeds up, asks to go into 2, slows back down, go into 4 again - "lighter ... heavy ... marcato ... leggiero ... light with your faces ... darker again"

 

8) Conduct hemiolas

 

9) plays Bach “Der Geisthilft” (one of the rep pieces) while we conduct

 

10) Then we conduct in 3 while he plays a minuet, then a Swedish “Hambo” (which has a very heavy downbeat), then in 1 a Kreisler waltz.

 

11) "try to give a preparatory beat with just your breathing . . . try it different ways ... feel the difference in the quality of sound . .. remember to give a deep breath with your preparations, use time (but not too quick)"

 

Day 3

 

reminders about posture

 

1) “take a breath, hum on ‘m’ . . . deeper breath ... move your head a little ... lift your arms as you breathe ... relax, no strange things, very natural ... do it again, but prepare from diaphragm

... now do it the wrong way"

 

2) conduct a small, but intense 4, while the left hand is out in front, still

 

3) count 2, conduct 4 (and vice versa); then do same counting 2, conducting 6; counting one, conducting 3 (more of “exercise in opposites”)

"move around"

 

4) more of the cuing exercise from previous day:

"right hand very intense ... l.h. stop dead with cue"

 

5) plays while alternating 6/8s (in two and six) and 3/4 - calls out changes while playing

 

“make the beat bigger . . .  smaller"

 

6) conduct 3, count 2 (3 vs. 2)

"move around ... move your left hand freely, out of tempo ... pick up imaginary music"

same, conduct 2 , count 3

 

7) Conduct 12/8 while E. plays:

"swinging beats, friction against the air"

"it's like playing the violin: too much tension (bow against the string)=scratchy sound, too little tension=airy sound - get just the right tension)"

 

8) E wants the sound to be characterized in the body as a whole "be friends with your body"

 

9) uses 12/8 for a sense of flow from beat to beat - E. improvises as we conduct: he starts with jazz -  then moves into the opening chorus from the St. Matthew Passion - impressionistic - jazz again - then “heavier, darker”

 

10) conduct fast, small 4 with r.h. only:

"emphasize the down, don't rebound so fast with your left hand:

• now while you conduct, arrange your hair . . .  walk in 2, conduct in 4 . . .  walk in 4, conduct in 2 . . . conduct in 6, but walk in a free tempo . . . continue to conduct in 6 and turn enormous score pages constantly and slowly . . .  now speak very dramatically some common text"

"the goals of this are to relax, and to think and do different things"

Learning from Eric Ericson IV - Conducting Technique I

NOTES FROM ERIC ERICSON'S CONDUCTING SESSIONS AT HAYSTACK , 1986

 

These notes are from several sessions (hence I've abbreviated in some places) that Eric Ericson did on basic conducting technique. This took place at the Haystack Workshop in Astoria, Oregon. I was singing in the 16-voice chamber choir that did a concert as well as providing the workshop choir. These are exercises to practice, or which are useful in teaching conducting (I've used them regularly). I'll spread this over two posts, corresponding to the two days Eric did this. (Sorry for any formatting "oddities" -- I had to scan and old typed version to pdf and then convert to MS Word, which made for some challenges) It's difficult, of course, to write about something that is physical and visual, but I've done my best!

 

1) Posture - find a balanced posture - now rotate your body side to side—relax your arms and let them follow your body - note that the arms follow in a circular way - "you need to find a natural way for your body to conduct"

 

2) Put your thumb and forefinger together and press intensely, so intensely that your fingertips become white - but localize the tension so that it's only in your fingers, not your arm - move your arms freely, tension only in the fingers - "too much muscle can kill the music"

 

3) Now bring your hand up to a 'normal' position - feel attachments that lift your arm

• lift , then relax - just let your arm drop - now close your eyes, lift and relax - now move your arm out to the side, lift and relax
• have a partner lift your arm with no tension then let go - it should fall naturally
• now feel as if your arm is being lifted only by an attachment at the finger - then from the wrist , elbow, shoulder

4) Now clasp your hands together and press them together hard - feel the intensity, but no tension in your shoulder

• shake hands with your partner, very firmly - check with the other hand to see that there is no tension in the shoulder of your partner

5) To find the position of the hand while conducting, simply lift up from by your side - find a natural position - avoid the elbow out or in, just ''natural”

 

6) what the conductor does must help vocal production (E. doesn't want baton for this reason)

 

7) the focus of the beat is the entire hand (not the fingers—too tense/ not the wrist—too floppy)

• the hand is where the choir reads the main information - the whole body gives 'resonance' (supports, is in agreement with) with the hand

8) conduct in 1 (Eric plays the piano) - "feel the magnetic pull towards the rebound spot" (ictus)

• now try with both hands ("don't go too high - work in the center of the body")
• feel contact with the breath and the level of the hands

9) bounce the beat off of the left hand, held at belly level

• now bounce it off the left hand at the top, the hand at the top of the beat
• now move the hand with no destination (like painting a wall)

(Eric plays a waltz - "you want a clear one that provokes what follows"}

 

10) now conduct with the whole arm - now focus in the elbow - see how awkward and inefficient

 

11) now conduct in a four pattern - E. watches and says: "don't let your elbow go out for beat 2" "don't put beat 1 in front of the body - it makes for an unnatural position"

• "don't think beat as in "beating” (schlag), use the positive aspect of heartbeat"

12) (continue conducting in 4) - feel the hand leading the beat , the arm follows

 

(comments to class while conducting) "relax your shoulder" "concentrate the beat in the hand" "walk around a little bit" "smaller beat , very small"

 

13) E. has class alternate bars conducting 4 while counting 2 and vice-versa

• then beat 3, count 1 (E. says onnne, going immediately to the 'n') beat 1 , count "1-2-3
• then beat 6, count 2
• beat 2, count 6
• (exercises of the "least common denominator")

14} "The size of the beat is related to the tempo, not the dynamic”

• he does an exercise to help feel this: change tempo with the beats the same size - doesn't work
• (he also notes that generally he doesn't want beat going above the eye level)

• now he alternates randomly, playing the piano and calling out the changes one bar ahead
• then improvises freely - conductors now keep that pattern against his rhythms

15) Independence of hands: r.h./1.h.

• r.h. conducts four, l.h. goes up and down while you sing a scale:
• then, do the opposite (the 1.h. goes the opposite direction of the scale)

16) Articulation: alternate:

• make sure the articulation of the hand coincides with what the voice does
• marcato calls for a faster rebound , contraction of muscle (E: "In America I generally feel there is too fast a rebound. This loses the possibility of sonority between beats .")
• Eric uses 12/8 for developing a legato beat - plays the opening of the St. Matthew Passion while conductors conduct ("feel the pull of the beat" )

 

17) now conduct 12/8, but sing only the first 8th note of every beat on the syllable “pom”

• Now on the 2nd eighth note

• now on the 3rd eighth note

• (you must think all the of the eighths and show the consequences of each beat

• the class keeps up this pattern while E improvises jazz

Learning from Eric Ericson III - Robert Sund

As you read the thoughts of various musicians who worked with Eric, you’ll discover commonalities—which is only natural—but each from a slightly different perspective.

 

For me, one of the best things about doing this series is giving me the excuse to get in touch with my Swedish friends. This week it’s Robert Sund. I met Robert in 1989, on my first trip to Sweden. But I really got to know Robert when we were judges that same year at the first Marktoberdorf competition. Since the judges’ deliberations were all done in German he helped me find the right word as we discussed the performances. I’ve had many meetings with Robert over the years, but I learned still more during this conversation.

 

Robert has a background that is out of the ordinary compared to Swedish choral conductors. He took piano lessons for 6 years (until he was 14) but his real love was jazz. He played piano, trumpet, trombone, and other instruments, listening to a lot of music (Swedish Radio had a big band in those days), formed his own band and did arrangements for them. When he went to Uppsala in 1963 to attend the famous university there (the oldest in Sweden, founded in 1477), he went to study English and his intention all along was to be an English teacher and for music to be an avocation. He hadn’t even sung at that point.

 

He auditioned for the orchestra at Uppsala on trombone, but was told that they rarely used trombones and he ought to sing. He quickly met a group of singers who heard him play jazz and they formed the Olsson Quintet, an all-male group singing jazz and other light music. He auditioned for the great men’s chorus, Orphei Drängar, conducted by Eric, in 1964, but didn’t get in that year, so sang in Allmänna Sången (one of the oldest choirs in Uppsala—formed in 1830, but had just become a mixed choir in 1963) and took voice lessons. The next year he was accepted into OD—Eric had already heard of the Olsson Quintet—and began his long association with Ericson. He says he’d never even heard of Eric when he arrived at Uppsala!

 

Robert and the Quintet became involved in the famed “Caprice” concerts which were held every December and were programs with fun, funny, and surprising elements (and usually a special, surprise guest—if you want to hear more—you can order CDs containing music from different Caprice years: here or here). Because of Robert’s skills as an arranger (again, self-taught) he was on the program committee and very involved with OD early on.

 

You should know that Eric loved jazz, so this was something he and Robert very much shared. And if you were around Eric very much or heard him sitting and improvising at the piano, you’d inevitably hear some jazz.

 

As time went on, Robert did his master’s degree in psychology (as well as musicology) at Uppsala and later worked briefly as a psychologist. However he gradually realized that music needed to be more than an avocation, so he began studies at the College of Music in 1971. He was Eric’s assistant with OD from 1968 (taking rehearsals when Eric couldn’t be there) and became conductor of Allmänna Sången in 1970. His conducting debut with OD was in 1969 when Eric was ill and he also took the choir on tour.

 

During the time he was at the College of Music (1972-75), he sang in the school’s chamber choir (which he said was fantastic in those days with many fine singers and conductors who’d later become well-known) and also in Eric’s Chamber Choir from 1973-77. From 1985 to 1991 he and Eric were co-conductors of OD and he took over totally in 1991, retiring in 2008.

 

So now, to let Robert speak about his experiences with Eric:

I was always very close with Eric – always with him, making programs, discussing OD. He was interested in my family and children, even up until the very end. The Olsson Quintet had dinner with him and Monica every first of May, which also lasted until very near the end.

 

In terms of programming he was always very careful, wanted other opinions, and delayed making decisions – the program committee for OD had to push him a bit. He always wanted to hear what other people were thinking. In this sense he was very open to questions from choir, patient (perhaps even when he might not have been) and his manner was gentle. This way of working with people (as opposed to conductors who get angry) was one of the things I admired and learned from him.

 

His workload was amazing, especially in those days. [Sparks: during this time he rehearsed OD one night, the Chamber Choir on another, had the choir at St. Jacobs in Stockholm (with whom he did all the major works with orchestra) on another, the Radio Choir three days a week, the Chamber Choir at the College of Music, and teaching at the College of Music—and remember all of these groups toured at different times of the year as well]. He loved to rehearse and could easily and happily spend 10 minutes balancing one chord and getting it in tune. If there were two minutes left at the end of rehearsal he wouldn’t end early, but start another piece. OD were often astonished if a guest conductor came in and stopped rehearsal early. As an example, OD was on tour one year and they had a dinner together at a restaurant. Eric asked everyone to bring their music to the restaurant and then rehearsed (in the restaurant) until shortly before the concert.

 

He used the piano frequently in rehearsal (although lots of a cappella singing as well, of course) and relied on it to show what he wanted. He was a marvelous pianist and would either demonstrate how he conceived the music or use it to help with tuning, difficult harmonies, or other aspects of the music. I also use the piano as a tool in my rehearsals.

 

Very early on Eric began recording not only concerts but rehearsals. You’d always see him with his headphones on, humming along as he listened to the last rehearsal. This was very much part of his routine. I’d imagine this began at the Radio where he had access to recording equipment. He loved technology and as soon as portable recorders were available he brought them to all his rehearsals and concerts. This allowed him to hear what the choir was doing from a different perspective.

 

Uppsala was a place where he totally relaxed and where many of his close friends were. With OD he was one of the guys. When I went to Stockholm to study I was surprised to see the awe with which he was regarded. People would say, “Do you know him already?”

 

You asked about his sound: if you’ve heard the recording of Swedish songs he did with the Real Group it shows that Eric loved a light, clear sound with fantastic intonation. He always spent time with phrasing. In some ways he was reluctant for the choir to go to the extremes of forte, because he could lose that lightness, balance and intonation. In the same way, he emphasized vowels for their effect on tuning and color and de-emphasized consonants. He rarely went for drama, but beauty of sound and wonderful intonation.

 

He had a great sense of humor and used it to relax the choir. The worse things went, the more funny he’d become.

 

Eric has been my only teacher. Not only during my studies at the College of Music, but also during 20 years of close cooperation in different choirs I have learnt almost everything I know by watching him work. Of course I have studied other famous conductors and picked up details here and there, but I am most lucky to have had the opportunity to have been so close to the greatest master of them all.

Learning from Eric Ericson - I

Eric Ericson (1918-2013) was one of the major choral conductors of the last century. His work was influential for many of us and the standards he set with his own Chamber Choir, with the Swedish Radio Choir, along with the men's chorus Orphei Drängar, raised standards around the world. The many tours with those three choirs (and the chamber choir at the College of Music), in addition to his many recordings, were how most of us first knew his work.

While he prepared and/or conducted most of the standard choral/orchestral masterworks, his primary focus and love was for a cappella music. It was always his goal with the Radio Choir, for example, to have 80% of the repertoire the choir sang be a cappella (he wasn't always successful with this).

As the primary teacher of conducting at the Royal College of Music in Stockholm he influenced generations of Swedish conductors from the early 1950's into the 1990s (for a considerable number of those years he was the teacher for all choral conductors, whether music education or church music, and for many years it was also the only place in Sweden where one could study conducting). Later in his career he influenced conductors from around the world through masterclasses and conducting courses.

I've written before about his use of the piano in rehearsal, but we'll explore more of what made Eric . . . well, Eric. And, of course, to ask which of his methods and approaches will be useful to us. A number of posts as well will be guest blogs or interviews with some of my Swedish friends who've known Eric for many years.

A wonderful interview with him from 1997, the 50th anniversary of his Chamber Choir, can be found here. It will tell you a lot to get started.

The Young Conductor V - the conductor and the piano

One of the critical areas for a young conductor--and this applies to both the undergraduate planning for a career in music education and the graduate conducting  student with a fair amount of experience already—is to develop and then improve rehearsal skills.

 

I’ve written before about rehearsal, here and here, and even more on my own blog (which can be searched by topic), but today I’ll look at the use of a keyboard instrument in rehearsal.

 

There’s the issue of whether you have a rehearsal accompanist (and how skilled that accompanist is) or, if you don’t, the level of your own keyboard skills. But the question today, no matter whether you have or are your own accompanist, is how do you use the keyboard most effectively in rehearsal? Having excellent keyboard skills (or having an expert accompanist) can be a temptation as well as an aid—a temptation to play too much or too often.

 

In the beginning conducting book by Eric Ericson and two of his colleagues, Eric writes a chapter on rehearsing and compares the use of the piano in the rehearsal of a cappella music with helping a baby to learn to walk: first you give lots of support; then as the baby becomes more confident you use less and less support; and finally take away your hands and let the baby walk on its own.

 

I often see young conductors continue to play or let the accompanist play when it's no longer necessary. The basic rule should be to take away the keyboard as quickly as possible. When teaching or observing young conductors I often have to remind them: take the piano away! There are several reasons for this. One is exactly as in Ericson's example: use only the minimal amount of support so the choir becomes independent. But there is an equally important reason--when the piano is playing you simply can't hear as much of what the choir is doing. You as the conductor need to know . . . does the choir really know it? Can they find the pitches for the next section on their own? Is that chord really in tune? The sound of the piano can blur what's happening and your ability to hear it.

 

If the choir doesn't need the piano to sing the correct notes, but I'm worried about them staying in tune--so the choir doesn't begin to hear, feel (muscle memory), and learn the piece either flat or sharp--I want the piano to do the bare minimum to help the choir stay at the correct pitch, meaning using a bass line alone or perhaps a series of pedal notes that establish the correct pitch. Additionally, if I'm striving for "just" intonation and purer thirds (see my earlier intonation series for more information) I want to avoid playing the piano's tempered thirds, so will play roots or fifths.

 

I mentioned a cappella singing above, but even with accompanied music (whether with piano, organ or orchestra), it's valuable to take the piano away and let the choir sing alone. Not only can you hear them better, but if they're secure without the accompaniment it'll be ever so much easier when singing with the piano or orchestra. You can play the interludes, but drop out whenever the choir comes in.

 

Another thing for me if I use an accompanist--I don't want the piano between me and the choir. I will set up with the choir in an arc with me in the center of the arc (relatively). The the piano (a grand--this can't work easily with an upright) is to my right and slightly behind me. It's to my right (not left) so that the accompanist can easily see my right hand. It's behind me and further to the right because I don't want the bulk of the piano and its sound coming directly in front of me and more directly than the sound of the choir. It also allows me to move closer to the choir freely as well--either to hear/encourage a particular section or to temporarily get further away from the sound of the piano. But it's most important so the sound of the piano doesn't dominate over the sound of the choir.

 

And here are more observations from Eric Ericson's practice from an earlier post that's part of the intonation series:

 

First, Eric was a superb pianist with a marvelous, light and "vocal" touch. He almost always played with the una corda ("soft") pedal down and created a transparent, non-percussive sound. Too often I hear either conductors or accompanists pound notes in a way which invites harsh attacks and sound. Never from Eric or his accompanists.

 

He almost never simply played along with the choir, doubling what they did. Here's what was typical:

• sometimes without the choir singing, he'd simply play (normally from memory) the music (Bach's Der Geisthilft, for example, demonstrating all important parts), saying, "I think it might go like this," giving a very complete idea of rhythm, phrasing, and shape -- the piano can demonstrate beautifully--with the right player!
• as mentioned above, he would often play a pedal (usually in the treble, above the soprano, but also bass lines) to help keep pitch (but without implying tempered intonation)--often "rocking" an octave back and forth to keep the sound going
• in very slow-moving music, he might improvise a melody above the choir in shorter notes, so the choir could hear and feel the pulse
• if the music was harmonically complicated, he would play (as in the first example) something for the choir, but almost never exactly what the choir sang--but a reduction of the harmonic content and shifts so the choir could hear it more easily
• he would also help the choir hear the harmony when it was complicated by playing while they were singing below and above  the choir (I remember that in Debussy, for example), but never in the choir's pitch area
• and, of course, much of the time the choir sang a cappella -- he played only when it was necessary to help stay in tune, or to help with one of the musical issues listed above

The piano is a notably "unvocal" instrument and my comments above about Eric's beautiful and non-percussive approach to the instrument is incredibly imporant. So often I've heard a conductor or accompanist give pitches to the choir with a hard, loud, and percussive sound . . . and then the conductor wonders why the choir doesn't sing beautifully! How you or your accompanist plays is incredibly important in creating a beautiful sound or a poor one.

 

The keyboard in rehearsal is an incredibly helpful tool, but like all tools, has its place. Make sure you find ways to use it (and even more importantly, remember when not to use it!) that help the choir, but neither work against the sound you want nor become a crutch for the choir that isn't necessary.

 

Please add your thoughts and suggestions in the comments!

Intonation XIV - Final Thoughts

OK, no such thing as "final" thoughts on a topic as big as choral intonation! But this IS the final installation in this long series of posts. No more (unless I respond to your comments) until late August--if you have thoughts on new topics of interest, send a note!

A resource I've used is a book on choral intonation by P.G. Alldahl, a Swedish composer (and choral conductor) who followed Lars Edlund as the teacher and coordinator of ear training at the Conservatory in Stockholm. I met P.G. in 1990 when doing research for my dissertation and he's a fascinating person. I have a copy of the Swedish version of his book on Choral Intonation, which deals with ideas of just intonation, exercises of how to approach it, with examples from the literature. What I didn't realize (stupidly) until now is that there's an English version of the book. It's published by Gehrmans and the Swedish price (228 kr) is currently the equivilent of ca. $35, but I don't know about shipping. You could order directly from Gehrmans, but I've also had great luck (and quick response) from Bo Ejeby, who is not only a publisher, but a retailer. He's very quick to respond and ship and you can order with your credit card. I've just gone ahead and ordered a copy for myself, since the English version has been updated and, as you'll see from this short sample pdf, also deals with some interesting literature in terms of problems (Verdi Ave Maria, for example). So sorry I didn't think of this earlier, since it's a great resource for many of the ideas I and others discussed earlier in terms of just tuning.

Thinking a bit more about Eric Ericson's approach, I thought I'd offer some thoughts about what I've seen him (and other Swedes) do.

Eric's (and many Swedish) choirs have long been known for really beautiful, in-tune singing. Eric would say that the Swedish language has some advantages: all very pure vowels and a legato, connected way of speaking (he would also say that "the front side has a back side," that Swedes have to work harder for crisp rhythm or diction, for example). As I noted early on, pure unified vowels go a long way towards helping with good intonation.

But Eric always had a particularly accute ear and early on developed a keen interest in excellent intonation. Of course, Eric was trained as an organist and pianist, so came from the background of equal tempered tuning. When I was in Sweden the summer of 1990, it was he who introduced me to P.G. Alldahl and Eric was very aware at that time of just intonation and incorporated it into his tuning. I suspect it may have happened as early as his trip to Basel after World War II, when he studied at the Schola Cantorum with people such as the pioneering viola da gambist, August Wenzinger, Ina Lohr and others. He had a particular interest in early music and, in fact, his (at that time 16-voice) Chamber Choir was founded in 1945 specifically to perform early music his group of friends had studied, but had never heard. If he did not come across other ideas of tuning possibilities at that time, he certainly would have in the late 1960s when there were some notable collaborations between his Chamber Choir and Niklaus Harnoncourt's Concentus Musicus. And by the time I was in Sweden, Eric was regularly collaborating with the period-instrument Drottningholm Baroque Ensemble as well. 

In addition, to do contemporary scores (of the sort Eric conducted) justice, it required new skills with pitch for both choir and conductor. As Eric said,

The music department at the Radio had many competent people who really jumped on impulses and picked up all the big personalities of the 1950s . . . I sat there with my choirmaster position . . . and was ordered, here comes Stravinsky, here comes Hindemith, and they want to guest conduct their pieces with the Radio Choir, etc.--and I had to be able to study all that. But of course it also meant incredibly inspiring contacts and demanding jobs--"Here you go--study this Dallapiccola . . . "--and that was horrendously difficult at that time! So we stood there with our assignments, and it was exciting for us to jump into all of this modern music.

And then,

You asked how technique and proficiency developed, and I can almost mention certain pieces which were "rungs on the ladder" . . . because that's how I feel so strongly when we've learned a difficult and very good piece. I'm thinking naturally from the viewpoint of the Chamber Choir with [Lidholm's] Laudi from 1947, Fyra körer from 1953, then the big pieces of Stravinsky, Nono . . . Dallapiccola perhaps most of all, which is where we learned to read notes and rhythms. And then of course we have a Swedish piece, again by Lidholm [1956--Canto], that we struggled with for half a year. I have a certain sense that, when you "come out on the other side" after having done a piece like Lidholm's Canto, you are a better musician, a better conductor, a better chorister. Canto feels like a final exam for the '50s choral life . . . early pieces that were difficult tonally and rhythmically became less so. Canto combined all the difficulties one was thrown between.

To sing this music well requires tight control of pitch. When you sing clusters or demanding non-tonal chord constructions, too much vibrato or any vague sense of the pitch simply doesn't work. For the music to sound, the pitches have to be very precise (and more likely with equal temperament, of course). 

I had an interesting experience when doing Lars Edlund's Gloria with my PLU choir (a piece that was very effective with our audiences, once I introduced it with verbal program notes). It involves quarter steps, which are never, however, used harmonically--the choir simply "bends" a note a quarter step higher or lower, then back again--it's an ornamental inflection. In almost all performances I'd heard (including Eric's!) the quarter steps were really close to half steps. So I worked in the following way: 

• First, we did Robert Shaw style exercises to learn how much distance there really is between a half step and worked these regularly--for example, ultimately having two parts (in octaves men/women) a half step apart gradually "change places" (the higher pitch sliding downward, the lower pitch sliding upward), but at a specific tempo and length, with the goal that half way through we'd meet briefly on the quarter tone (we weren't exact, but got quite good at it).
• I also had our composition teacher help me program our Yamaha DX-7 to play quarter-tones. When we worked on the sections with the quarter-tone inflections, I wouldn't allow them (for quite a long time) to sing them--they stayed on pitch and I played the inflections for them, so they could hear an absolutely mathematically accurate quarter-tones.
• Finally, I allowed them to sing the quarter-tones themselves, which they did quite well

The interesting thing was that piece never went flat or sharp during 12 or so performances on tour--other pieces did, but not the Edlund. I think all the intensive work they did on pitch in that work resulted in such a keen sense of where those pitches were (and the consequent muscle and tonal memory) that they had it totally locked and could reproduce it no matter what the acoustic or how tired they were. 

Certainly, I've found that work with contemporary music which requires intense concentration on non-tonal pitches gives the choir a much keener sense of intonation, which can carry over into other music as well.

To get back to Eric:

The kinds of things I alluded to (and which P.G. has in his book) about using the piano to give "pedal" reference notes for intonation come directly from watching Eric in rehearsal. So, a bit about Eric's use of the piano (whether he played or an accompanist--all of whom knew his methods quite well).

First, Eric was a superb pianist with a marvelous, light and "vocal" touch. He almost always played with the una corda ("soft") pedal down and created a transparent, non-percussive sound. Too often I hear either conductors or accompanists pound notes in a way which invites harsh attacks and sound. Never from Eric or his accompanists. I saw Eric work with his own choirs (the Chamber Choir, Conservatory Chamber Choir, and Orphei Drängar), in masterclasses with a "put-together" choir of Americans or Canadians, or at the 1990 IFCM in Stockholm, and guest conducting the first concert of Choral Arts in Seattle as well as other choirs, plus at two workshops at PLU when I taught there. So please understand that we're not talking beginning choirs!

He never simply played along with the choir, doubling what they did. Here's what was typical:

• sometimes without the choir singing, he'd simply play (normally from memory) the music (Bach's Der Geisthilft, for example, demonstrating all important parts), saying, "I think it might go like this," giving a very complete idea of rhythm, phrasing, and shape
• he would often play pedals (usually in the treble, above the soprano, but also bass lines) to help establish pitch (but without implying equal tempered intonation and working for just intonation)--often "rocking" an octave back and forth to keep the sound going
• in something very slow, he would often improvise a melody above the choir in 16th notes, so there was always a pulse audible
• if the music was harmonically complicated, he would either play (as in the first example) something for the choir, but never exactly what the choir sang--simply a reduction of the harmonic content and shifts so the choir could hear it easier
• he would also help the choir hear the harmony when it was complicated by playing below and above  choir choir (a bass-line and treble chords), but not in their pitch area
• and, of course, much of the time the choir sang a cappella -- he played only when it was necessary to help stay in tune, or to help with one of the musical issues listed above

Eric also loved jazz and could improvise in a jazz style rather easily. One of the things I remember from conducting classes was him having all the conductors conducting (asking them to reflect the music--light/heavy, etc.--in their conducting), beginning with the opening of the St. Matthew Passion and then evolving to a jazz version with all sorts of syncopations, etc., all to provoke the conductors to show more of the music in their conducting.

Eric had excellent ears, as I've said, but not perfect pitch. He recorded nearly every rehearsal and would listen to it afterwards--I remember my first time in Sweden in 1989, where I accompanied him and Orphei Drängar on a short tour, when after the concert in the bus, he'd put on his headphones to listen to the recording, humming and occasionally checking pitches on his little Casio keyboard to see exactly where the choir started to go flat or sharp.

An amazing man!

It's been a pleasure to write these posts--good for me to re-think what I just do and get feedback and new ideas from others. Have a great summer!

More on Eric Ericson

The following is from an earlier post, with an article I wrote four years ago for Eric's 90th birthday. I hope I'll have time for a more personal reflection on Eric and what I learned from him, but it's incredibly busy right now (among other things, I'm chairing a search at UNT), so I'll get to it when I can.


I was asked by the newspaper Svenska Dagbladet to write a piece for their essay page (Under strecket) to be published on Eric's birthday (tomorrow--Sunday--he's 90!). They wanted a piece that evaluated Eric's contributions to choral music, both in Sweden and abroad, but from a strictly journalistic perspective . . . in other words, even though it is published on his birthday, they didn't want a piece that was only laudatory, but with a critical perspective. Given the length, it was difficult to do (my original draft was about a third longer and too personal), but here it is. They have translated into Swedish for the edition of the newspaper, of course.

Eric Ericson’s Impact on the World of Choral Music

The noted choral conductor, Eric Ericson, turns 90 today. What has been his impact on choral music in Sweden, the Nordic countries, Europe and the world? How has the choral world changed because of his work? How and why did this happen? Why Sweden?

These are questions I first asked myself some time ago—as a choral conductor, I learned of Ericson’s work through his recordings, then hearing the Swedish Radio Choir on tour in the United States in 1983.

My curiosity didn’t end with those early experiences.

This interest in Swedish music led me to write a doctoral dissertation on the topic: Swedish a cappella music since 1945. The question of “why” became a secondary focus of the dissertation and book which followed: The Swedish Choral Miracle: Swedish A Cappella Music Since 1945.

In many ways, it is a tale of the right person being in the right place at the right time.

One has to begin with an individual with enormous talent and skill, which Ericson has had in abundance. He grew up the son of a Free Church preacher, so became involved with music from an early age, studying piano and organ, and directing a choir from his early teens. When he reached the conservatory he excelled.

It isn’t enough, of course, to have talent—one must also have character, drive, ambition and (especially for a conductor) the ability to inspire others.

Even with those qualities, the impact one makes is dependent on outside circumstances, and in this Ericson was fortunate.

During his time at the Conservatory, he made friends with a talented and diverse group of people who gained the name The Monday Group, because beginning in 1944 and continuing until the end of the decade, they met on Monday afternoons in the apartment of composer Karl-Birger Blomdahl to discuss and study music. They were dissatisfied with what they perceived as too conservative training at the school. The group also included composers Sven-Erik Bäck, Sven-Eric Johanson, and Ingvar Lidholm, a number other musicians, and the musicologist Bo Wallner. Bäck and Lidholm would remain among Ericson’s closest friends.

The Monday Group became important, because as Lidholm would later say, “We sat on the floor at Karl-Birger’s Drottninggatan 106 and saw ourselves, in all simplicity, taking over all the institutions.”

They did just that. Sweden was a conservative country musically, but the members of the Monday Group ultimately took over and remade the main musical institutions: Blomdahl was Professor of Composition at the Conservatory from 1960-65 and head of music at Swedish Radio from 1965-68; Lidholm was head of chamber music at the Radio from 1956-65, edited the Radio’s Nutida Musik (literally, “New Music,” the title of a radio series and the journal that originally accompanied it) from its beginnings in 1954 to 1957, then Professor of Composition after Blomdahl in 1965; and Bo Wallner would become an influential musicologist at the Conservatory and edited Nutida Musik beginning in 1957.

And of course, Eric Ericson began teaching choral conducting at the Conservatory in 1951, became conductor of Orphei Drängar in the same year, and conductor of the Radio Choir (RK) in 1952.

Of course, when one person holds in his hand the major institutions in a country for so many years, one can expect that there are some negatives to go along with the positive. This was true in the following way: given Ericson’s dominance in Stockholm and the resources at his command, some very talented conductors had nowhere to go. The most prominent example of this is Karl-Eric Andersson, an immensely talented conductor, about five years younger than Ericson , who led the Bel Canto Choir. By all accounts both an extraordinarily talented conductor and teacher, his career could only go so far and this sadly affected his personal life.

Similarly, composers who were more conservative in style, such as members of the "Samtida Musik" circle ("samtida" is another word for "contemporary," so the name was chosen in opposition to "nutida musik")--Erland von Koch, Hans Eklund, Jan Carlstedt, and others--found it difficult to get performances. Von Koch later wrote about this in his memoirs with a chapter titled “The Monday Group—Mafia and Opinion Dictatorship,” and noted that RK never performed any of his works.

This is as much a function of Sweden’s relatively small size and centralization in Stockholm during this period, as of Ericson’s having those positions. At the Conservatory, for example, composition and choral conducting were a “one channel” system—one person was in charge of those programs and for much of that time, Stockholm was the only place one could study those subjects. Yet it made life more difficult for some.

Sweden’s neutrality in the Second World War was also a contributing factor. Since Sweden didn’t suffer the loss of a generation of talented people and the extraordinary damage of infrastructure that was seen in most of Europe, this allowed for the quick rebuilding of its economy.

Because of this, most of the The Monday Group traveled abroad after the war, Ericson making an important trip to Basel, spending a whole year there, studying early music and observing the Basel Kammerorchester, which commissioned important works by Honegger, Hindemith, and Stravinsky.

Eric Ericson began the Chamber Choir (or KK) in 1945 with a group of 16 friends (who included the composer Lars Edlund and the important conductor/teacher Bror Samuelsson) primarily to sing the madrigals and other music from the renaissance that they’d read about, but not heard. Ericson has always readily admitted his important predecessors and teachers, including David Åhlen with whom he’d studied and sung with at the Conservatory, Johannes Norrby (and his ensemble Voces Intimae), and Mogens Wöldike (who’d come from Denmark at the beginning of the war and was known as an early music expert—he did a number of productions with RK at this time and helped stimulate Ericson’s interest in early music).

It was, however, a new piece, written for KK by Ingvar Lidholm in 1946 and premiered in 1947—Laudi—that called for new resources and led Ericson and the choir in new directions. On the technical side, it demanded skill with new and difficult intervals—Ericson said, “I think we went on for six months to try to nail down that difficult sixth measure in the first movement. I remember how we sighed over the difficult intervals.” Laudi also called for a more dramatic style, Lidholm asking for extremes of dynamics not seen in the madrigal literature: “full voice, as loud as possible without forcing.”

There followed other new and difficult works by Bäck, Schoenberg, Bartók, Hindemith, Milhaud, Stravinsky, and then Swiss composer Frank Martin’s Le Vin Herbé (the performance also included prominent Swedish singers Nicolai Gedda, Elisabeth Söderstöm, Erik Saedén, and Kerstin Meyer), which took nearly a year of preparation.

In 1952 Ericson was asked to take over and reorganize RK, with most of the members replaced by members of KK, expanded to 32 singers, and began rehearsing three times a week (KK continued with one rehearsal a week).

As Ericson has said, “The music department of the Radio had many competent people who really jumped on impulses and picked up on all the big personalities of the 1950s. I sat there with my choirmaster position and was ordered, here comes Stravinsky, here comes Hindemith, and they want to guest conduct their pieces with the Radio Choir, etc.—and I had to be able to study all that. But of course it also meant incredibly inspiring contacts and demanding jobs—‘Here you go—study this Dallapiccola . . .’—that was horrendously difficult at that time! So we stood there with our assignments, and it was exciting for us to jump into all this modern music.”

Ericson has always maintained that the repertoire developed the choir: “You asked how technique and proficiency developed, and I can almost mention certain pieces which were ‘rungs on the ladder,’ because that’s how I feel so strongly when we’ve learned a difficult and very good piece. I’m thinking of KK with Laudi from 1947, then the big pieces of Stravinsky and Nono. Dallapiccola, perhaps most of all, is where we learned to read notes and rhythms. And then of course we have a Swedish piece, again by Lidholm [1956—Canto 81], that we struggled with for half a year. I have a certain sense that, when you ‘come out on the other side’ after having done a piece like Lidholm’s Canto, you are a better musician, a better conductor, a better chorister.” Additionally, Ericson’s emphasis on a cappella music (his stated desire was always to have his ensembles perform 80% a cappella music) has inherently demanded higher attention to the skills of intonation, blend, and ensemble.

The German recording company EMI recognized the extraordinary quality of Ericson’s choirs, and commissioned a four-LP set called Europäische Chormusik aus fünf Jahrhundert, first issued in 1971. This gave Ericson the reason to tour and then record, with both KK and RK, many of the great works for a cappella choir. This was an enormous success, winning several prizes, and led to a second four-LP set, Virtuose Chormusik, in 1978 (both are still available on CD). These recordings helped disseminate knowledge of Ericson’s work around the world, and the high standards set by these recordings had a major influence on other choral conductors and choirs.

Teaching has also been an important part of Ericson’s career, which spanned four decades at the Conservatory. In the ‘50s and ‘60s he taught both church musicians and choral conducting students—40-50 students each year. As Lennart Reimers notes, in 1933 Sveriges Körförbund (the Swedish Choral Society) had 503 members, 40 of whom had a degree from the Conservatory—and during his time there, Ericson taught more than 1500 choral conductors. Consequently, he had an enormous influence on conductors in Sweden.

As Ericson’s singers and students went on to lead their own choirs, they began performing much of the repertoire first done by KK or RK. This raised the level of many choirs, which is in part responsible for the high standards of choral singing in Sweden today. That influence has not only been in Sweden, since many conductors from other countries have also come to Sweden to work with Ericson, whether formally or informally. And since retiring from the Swedish Radio in 1983, he increasingly traveled abroad to teach master classes and guest conduct. Foreign choirs have also inspired by Ericson’s model, for example, the outstanding French choir, Accentus with its conductor Laurence Equilbey.

Ericson has long fought for new repertoire for the a cappella choir and this was an important part of his work. Certainly, the great works by Ingvar Lidholm would likely not have been written were it not for their friendship. There is a long list of works premiered by him or dedicated to him. This has been an important legacy. Many of Ericson’s students have also been active in commissioning new works—prime examples in the last fifteen years or so being Robert Sund, Erik Westberg and Gary Graden. In his travels, master classes, and guest conducting, he’s also been an ambassador for Swedish music and composers throughout the world.

Overall, Eric’s career has been extraordinary. He built ensembles (now nearly 65 years with the Eric Ericson Chamber Choir) with a technical quality unmatched by others in their era, made recordings that still hold up as models many years later, stimulated numerous composers to write for the a cappella idiom, taught four decades worth of choral conductors in Sweden and many abroad, and has inspired choral conductors throughout the world.

Eric Ericson passes at 94

I won't say much now, as there's too much to say about Eric and his impact on so many lives, but it was with mixed emotions of sadness for his loss, and joy at the wonderful life he led that struck me when I heard the news via Facebook this morning.

While I would never dare to say I was his student, he was a huge inspiration, mentor, and friend. Though him and his influence many wonderful things came my way.

He was an amazing musician and man--he will be greatly missed by thousands around the world.

Eric Ericson and Norman Luboff in 1971

Wonderful video on YouTube.

Bevan "Fowre Thowsand Wynter" 2

When Allan talked to me about doing a "prequel" (my term, not his!) to Nou Goth, I said yes. We originally planned for it to be done for Pro Coro's 2008 Christmas concert. Allan began work, we continued occasional email conversations, talked about instrumentation (originally similar to Nou Goth, with a few winds in addition to harp, percussion, timpani, organ and strings), and all went ahead as planned.

Allan made great progress and in September of 2008, while in Edmonton rehearsing for our season-opening concert, Pro Coro also had a performance of the Rachmaninoff All-Night Vigil in Calgary. I went down a day early to meet with Allan at his home, get a score, and look it over with him. We talked about his texts, possible pronunciation (more about in my next post), and the general shape of the work.

However, Pro Coro was going through a financial crisis that fall and I'd taken over the job of Executive Director as well as Artistic Director. In October, after the Treasurer and I had gone through the budget for the umpteenth time, it became clear that we simply could not afford to hire the orchestra for Fowre Thowsand Wynter and manage to get out of debt by the end of the season (the final year of a three-year plan to elminate our deficit). I should say that Pro Coro normally has enough room in the budget to hire an orchestra once each season, usually for our Good Friday concert (we' d also gotten a grant in previous years that was specifically to hire orchestras for a series of all of the late Haydn Masses, but that was in addition to our usual budget). I'd managed to make this work for the 2008-09 season by programming Good Friday so that we'd need minimal instrumentalists (Victoria Requiem and Rutter Requiem in the version for six instruments). However, our budget now had to be radically cut in other ways, so we had to cancel Allan's premiere.

That was truly one of the most difficult phone calls I've ever had to make. Allan had done enormous amounts of work and spent countless hours working on the piece and now it was all going to disappear. I was determined to make this a postponement, not an end, to the project, but it was still enormously painful.

I can only say that I'm so happy it was not an end to our collaboration, but that we were able to include it in the 2009-10 season. As such things go, other things happened that turned the delay into a positive, instead of a negative: Allan was able to apply again for a Canada Council commissioning grant (he'd just missed the deadline the year before) and got it, as well as a grant from the Alberta Foundation for the Arts; he revised the piece substantially, particularly the orchestration, dropping the winds; and we were able to do the work in a year when we weren't organizationally stressed (and for me, personally stressed trying to do several jobs at once).

And, I should note, we ended the 2008-09 season with our deficit eliminated.

Just a bit more about the process of collaboration/commissioning, particularly of building a relationship with a composer.

When I was doing research for my dissertation (and later book) about Swedish choral music, it became clear that one of the reasons (although there were others) that so much high-level a cappella music was written for Swedish choirs was the personal relationship between conductor/ensemble/composer. Eric Ericson is a prime example of this. He had close friendships with a number of composers, but perhaps one of the closest was with Ingvar Lidholm. Lidholm is arguably the most important Swedish composer of his generation and has written a number of very important choral works (his masterpiece for me is ...a riveder le stelle)--you can find a recording by Ericson's Chamber Choir of all of his choral music here.

Eric formed the Chamber Choir in 1945 with a group of 16 friends, primarily to perform early music that they'd studied, but rarely heard. Their first concert in 1946 was all early music with the exception of Hindemith's Acht Kanon. However, Lidholm, having heard this choir and being one of Eric's closest friends, wrote a new work for them: Laudi. I'd read how difficult this work was for the choir and Eric had written about how they'd struggled for more than six months to try to master some passages. One time I asked Eric how they'd persevered through this. He simply replied, "He was our friend."

Ultimately, that's often what it's all about.

Allan is our friend, and certainly I was determined to make sure that Fowre Thowsand Wynter would see its premiere with Pro Coro, and it's absolutely been worth it.

I don't know when Allan would have gotten the possibility of writing two large-scale works such as he did for us, but I'm proud that we got to take part in their creation.

Eric Ericson birthday tribute

Sorry it has been so long since I've posted. Lots I could say, but little time to say it!

I was asked by the newspaper Svenska Dagbladet to write a piece for their essay page (Under strecket) to be published on Eric's birthday (tomorrow--Sunday--he's 90!). They wanted a piece that evaluated Eric's contributions to choral music, both in Sweden and abroad, but from a strictly journalistic perspective . . . in other words, even though it is published on his birthday, they didn't want a piece that was only laudatory, but with a critical perspective. Given the length, it was difficult to do (my original draft was about a third longer and too personal), but here it is. They have translated into Swedish for the edition of the newspaper, of course.

Eric Ericson’s Impact on the World of Choral Music

The noted choral conductor, Eric Ericson, turns 90 today. What has been his impact on choral music in Sweden, the Nordic countries, Europe and the world? How has the choral world changed because of his work? How and why did this happen? Why Sweden?

These are questions I first asked myself some time ago—as a choral conductor, I learned of Ericson’s work through his recordings, then hearing the Swedish Radio Choir on tour in the United States in 1983.

My curiosity didn’t end with those early experiences.

This interest in Swedish music led me to write a doctoral dissertation on the topic: Swedish a cappella music since 1945. The question of “why” became a secondary focus of the dissertation and book which followed: The Swedish Choral Miracle: Swedish A Cappella Music Since 1945.

In many ways, it is a tale of the right person being in the right place at the right time.

One has to begin with an individual with enormous talent and skill, which Ericson has had in abundance. He grew up the son of a Free Church preacher, so became involved with music from an early age, studying piano and organ, and directing a choir from his early teens. When he reached the conservatory he excelled.

It isn’t enough, of course, to have talent—one must also have character, drive, ambition and (especially for a conductor) the ability to inspire others.

Even with those qualities, the impact one makes is dependent on outside circumstances, and in this Ericson was fortunate.

During his time at the Conservatory, he made friends with a talented and diverse group of people who gained the name The Monday Group, because beginning in 1944 and continuing until the end of the decade, they met on Monday afternoons in the apartment of composer Karl-Birger Blomdahl to discuss and study music. They were dissatisfied with what they perceived as too conservative training at the school. The group also included composers Sven-Erik Bäck, Sven-Eric Johanson, and Ingvar Lidholm, a number other musicians, and the musicologist Bo Wallner. Bäck and Lidholm would remain among Ericson’s closest friends.

The Monday Group became important, because as Lidholm would later say, “We sat on the floor at Karl-Birger’s Drottninggatan 106 and saw ourselves, in all simplicity, taking over all the institutions.”

They did just that. Sweden was a conservative country musically, but the members of the Monday Group ultimately took over and remade the main musical institutions: Blomdahl was Professor of Composition at the Conservatory from 1960-65 and head of music at Swedish Radio from 1965-68; Lidholm was head of chamber music at the Radio from 1956-65, edited the Radio’s Nutida Musik (literally, “New Music,” the title of a radio series and the journal that originally accompanied it) from its beginnings in 1954 to 1957, then Professor of Composition after Blomdahl in 1965; and Bo Wallner would become an influential musicologist at the Conservatory and edited Nutida Musik beginning in 1957.

And of course, Eric Ericson began teaching choral conducting at the Conservatory in 1951, became conductor of Orphei Drängar in the same year, and conductor of the Radio Choir (RK) in 1952.

Of course, when one person holds in his hand the major institutions in a country for so many years, one can expect that there are some negatives to go along with the positive. This was true in the following way: given Ericson’s dominance in Stockholm and the resources at his command, some very talented conductors had nowhere to go. The most prominent example of this is Karl-Eric Andersson, an immensely talented conductor, about five years younger than Ericson , who led the Bel Canto Choir. By all accounts both an extraordinarily talented conductor and teacher, his career could only go so far and this sadly affected his personal life.

Similarly, composers who were more conservative in style, such as members of the "Samtida Musik" circle ("samtida" is another word for "contemporary," so the name was chosen in opposition to "nutida musik")--Erland von Koch, Hans Eklund, Jan Carlstedt, and others--found it difficult to get performances. Von Koch later wrote about this in his memoirs with a chapter titled “The Monday Group—Mafia and Opinion Dictatorship,” and noted that RK never performed any of his works.

This is as much a function of Sweden’s relatively small size and centralization in Stockholm during this period, as of Ericson’s having those positions. At the Conservatory, for example, composition and choral conducting were a “one channel” system—one person was in charge of those programs and for much of that time, Stockholm was the only place one could study those subjects. Yet it made life more difficult for some.

Sweden’s neutrality in the Second World War was also a contributing factor. Since Sweden didn’t suffer the loss of a generation of talented people and the extraordinary damage of infrastructure that was seen in most of Europe, this allowed for the quick rebuilding of its economy.

Because of this, most of the The Monday Group traveled abroad after the war, Ericson making an important trip to Basel, spending a whole year there, studying early music and observing the Basel Kammerorchester, which commissioned important works by Honegger, Hindemith, and Stravinsky.

Eric Ericson began the Chamber Choir (or KK) in 1945 with a group of 16 friends (who included the composer Lars Edlund and the important conductor/teacher Bror Samuelsson) primarily to sing the madrigals and other music from the renaissance that they’d read about, but not heard. Ericson has always readily admitted his important predecessors and teachers, including David Åhlen with whom he’d studied and sung with at the Conservatory, Johannes Norrby (and his ensemble Voces Intimae), and Mogens Wöldike (who’d come from Denmark at the beginning of the war and was known as an early music expert—he did a number of productions with RK at this time and helped stimulate Ericson’s interest in early music).

It was, however, a new piece, written for KK by Ingvar Lidholm in 1946 and premiered in 1947—Laudi—that called for new resources and led Ericson and the choir in new directions. On the technical side, it demanded skill with new and difficult intervals—Ericson said, “I think we went on for six months to try to nail down that difficult sixth measure in the first movement. I remember how we sighed over the difficult intervals.” Laudi also called for a more dramatic style, Lidholm asking for extremes of dynamics not seen in the madrigal literature: “full voice, as loud as possible without forcing.”

There followed other new and difficult works by Bäck, Schoenberg, Bartók, Hindemith, Milhaud, Stravinsky, and then Swiss composer Frank Martin’s Le Vin Herbé (the performance also included prominent Swedish singers Nicolai Gedda, Elisabeth Söderstöm, Erik Saedén, and Kerstin Meyer), which took nearly a year of preparation.

In 1952 Ericson was asked to take over and reorganize RK, with most of the members replaced by members of KK, expanded to 32 singers, and began rehearsing three times a week (KK continued with one rehearsal a week).

As Ericson has said, “The music department of the Radio had many competent people who really jumped on impulses and picked up on all the big personalities of the 1950s. I sat there with my choirmaster position and was ordered, here comes Stravinsky, here comes Hindemith, and they want to guest conduct their pieces with the Radio Choir, etc.—and I had to be able to study all that. But of course it also meant incredibly inspiring contacts and demanding jobs—‘Here you go—study this Dallapiccola . . .’—that was horrendously difficult at that time! So we stood there with our assignments, and it was exciting for us to jump into all this modern music.”

Ericson has always maintained that the repertoire developed the choir: “You asked how technique and proficiency developed, and I can almost mention certain pieces which were ‘rungs on the ladder,’ because that’s how I feel so strongly when we’ve learned a difficult and very good piece. I’m thinking of KK with Laudi from 1947, then the big pieces of Stravinsky and Nono. Dallapiccola, perhaps most of all, is where we learned to read notes and rhythms. And then of course we have a Swedish piece, again by Lidholm [1956—Canto 81], that we struggled with for half a year. I have a certain sense that, when you ‘come out on the other side’ after having done a piece like Lidholm’s Canto, you are a better musician, a better conductor, a better chorister.” Additionally, Ericson’s emphasis on a cappella music (his stated desire was always to have his ensembles perform 80% a cappella music) has inherently demanded higher attention to the skills of intonation, blend, and ensemble.

The German recording company EMI recognized the extraordinary quality of Ericson’s choirs, and commissioned a four-LP set called Europäische Chormusik aus fünf Jahrhundert, first issued in 1971. This gave Ericson the reason to tour and then record, with both KK and RK, many of the great works for a cappella choir. This was an enormous success, winning several prizes, and led to a second four-LP set, Virtuose Chormusik, in 1978 (both are still available on CD). These recordings helped disseminate knowledge of Ericson’s work around the world, and the high standards set by these recordings had a major influence on other choral conductors and choirs.

Teaching has also been an important part of Ericson’s career, which spanned four decades at the Conservatory. In the ‘50s and ‘60s he taught both church musicians and choral conducting students—40-50 students each year. As Lennart Reimers notes, in 1933 Sveriges Körförbund (the Swedish Choral Society) had 503 members, 40 of whom had a degree from the Conservatory—and during his time there, Ericson taught more than 1500 choral conductors. Consequently, he had an enormous influence on conductors in Sweden.

As Ericson’s singers and students went on to lead their own choirs, they began performing much of the repertoire first done by KK or RK. This raised the level of many choirs, which is in part responsible for the high standards of choral singing in Sweden today. That influence has not only been in Sweden, since many conductors from other countries have also come to Sweden to work with Ericson, whether formally or informally. And since retiring from the Swedish Radio in 1983, he increasingly traveled abroad to teach master classes and guest conduct. Foreign choirs have also inspired by Ericson’s model, for example, the outstanding French choir, Accentus with its conductor Laurence Equilbey.

Ericson has long fought for new repertoire for the a cappella choir and this was an important part of his work. Certainly, the great works by Ingvar Lidholm would likely not have been written were it not for their friendship. There is a long list of works premiered by him or dedicated to him. This has been an important legacy. Many of Ericson’s students have also been active in commissioning new works—prime examples in the last fifteen years or so being Robert Sund, Erik Westberg and Gary Graden. In his travels, master classes, and guest conducting, he’s also been an ambassador for Swedish music and composers throughout the world.

Overall, Eric’s career has been extraordinary. He built ensembles (now nearly 65 years with the Eric Ericson Chamber Choir) with a technical quality unmatched by others in their era, made recordings that still hold up as models many years later, stimulated numerous composers to write for the a cappella idiom, taught four decades worth of choral conductors in Sweden and many abroad, and has inspired choral conductors throughout the world.