Oh Happy Day
Diane has a digital camera (that I lust after) which records video clips. I am attempting to upload one such clip she took at the worship service at St. Paul's UMC on Sunday. The choir there--on Sunday it consisted of seven or eight women and one teenaged boy--is worth a listen.
This blog, so far as I can tell, uploads images and words and links and such, but so far I haven't gotten it to upload this clip Diane took of the choir singing "Oh Happy Day." From Diane's vantage point you can see how members of the congregation (largely, workers from our groups camped there at St. Paul's, along with visiting locals and some of the members of St. Paul's--30% of whom are unaccounted for) swaying to the music, and joining along. The service, which lasted two hours, included many pieces from the choir who sang from memory. Having watched the choir rehearsal in part, it appears they learn the music through rote memory rather than reading it. That comes in handy when all your music is wet, or blown away, or full of mildew, or your piano is broken and your organ works when the spirit moves it to do so.
There were a few, almost impromptu, solos interspersed throughout the service--usually starting with a few spoken words, and then breaking into an a capella paragraph. Within a bar or two, the organist has figured out what key the soloist has embarked upon, and joins in with a bluesy kind of accompaniment. Soon thereafter, the choir members have begun to join in on choruses, along with more and more of the congregation. Some are only comfortable or familiar enough to clap along, while others join right in, even if only tentatively.
This blog, so far as I can tell, uploads images and words and links and such, but so far I haven't gotten it to upload this clip Diane took of the choir singing "Oh Happy Day." From Diane's vantage point you can see how members of the congregation (largely, workers from our groups camped there at St. Paul's, along with visiting locals and some of the members of St. Paul's--30% of whom are unaccounted for) swaying to the music, and joining along. The service, which lasted two hours, included many pieces from the choir who sang from memory. Having watched the choir rehearsal in part, it appears they learn the music through rote memory rather than reading it. That comes in handy when all your music is wet, or blown away, or full of mildew, or your piano is broken and your organ works when the spirit moves it to do so.
There were a few, almost impromptu, solos interspersed throughout the service--usually starting with a few spoken words, and then breaking into an a capella paragraph. Within a bar or two, the organist has figured out what key the soloist has embarked upon, and joins in with a bluesy kind of accompaniment. Soon thereafter, the choir members have begun to join in on choruses, along with more and more of the congregation. Some are only comfortable or familiar enough to clap along, while others join right in, even if only tentatively.
posted by Elizabeth Hokama at 11:40 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home