A funny thing happened to me on the way to rehearsal . . .
I sing in the Modern Black Mass Choir every Friday in the Mary Lou Williams Center. Singing such uplifting music is a real boost to my morale after a long work week.
One Friday in rehearsal, however, in addition to the regular foot-stomping, adrenaline-pumping gospel that is our wont, the music director handed out a piece of (gasp) sheet music, to sing with the Chapel Choir--not exactly standard fare for the MBMC. The girl in front of me looked at the not-particularly-noteworthy music, turned to me, and said to me "this is your kind of music."
This made me think a bit--I may be white, but since when did that equate with my affection for a particular piece of choral music? And by reverse inference, who's to say that gospel is not my kind of music? I have sung and performed with the MBMC since the beginning of the year. I have also performed in many classical ensembles over the year and usually have an easier time learning from sheet music rather than by sound alone. But never have I claimed a real love for unremarkable choral devotional hymns.
If I were a black singer in a predominantly white choir who had been automatically associated with a watered-down spritual, I could write a well-deserved tirade on racism in music, and the day-to-day prejudices associated with it. But in this case, yelling would only compound the problem and create even more divisions where none should exist. But I like to hope that the occasional odd looks and snide comments are because of my inexperience in the style and not because of my skin color.
Still, the aforementioned comment, coming from someone who lived on my hall last year, made me wonder exactly how the cultures relate within the discipline of music. Immediately after MBMC rehearsal that Friday I sang with Rhythm & Blue, my a cappella group, in the alumni lounge along with Speak of the Devil and the Princeton Nassoons. I was in a unique position to observe the loud and enthusiastic crowd, and while I noticed a fairly well-balanced mix of Asians, Indians, whites and other ethnic groups, only a few black faces looked up at the performers.
This is not because of anti-black fliers posted in the Bryan Center. Nor is it because of a conscious boycott on the part of the black community. Rather, it seems to be the result of a division in community and a lack of communication between musical circles.
When I was first soliciting singers for Rhythm & Blue in fall 1992, I went to MBMC asking for auditionees. No one signed up, although members of the chorale and chapel choir were among the 30 or so hopeful singers. I don't think this was because of any conscious prejudice on the part of those singers. Rather, I think it is a symbol of these unofficial boundaries that separate the communities. No one really considers auditioning across the accepted color lines, in either direction. Singers in other ethnic groups should consider singing with the MBMC, and the reverse applies.
Of the 60 or so singers involved in a cappella music on this campus, only 9 or 10 identify themselves as part of a minority. Hats should go off for students like Angela Gore, Danny Kim and Arnaldo Cavazos, who are trying to change the system from within.
In an attempt to bridge this gap, the MBMC and Chapel Choir came together for last Sunday's church service. While I applaud the goals of Korland Simmons and Rodney Wynkoop in coordinating the service, MBMC attendance was exceedingly low, even for a Sunday morning, and I heard grousing about the music being sung. Why wasn't the Chapel Choir being taught a more difficult and energetic song?
I felt as though the message we brought was swallowed by details and petty grievances. The service sounded good and went over well with the congregation, so it can be counted as a success. But there must be more we can do.
Too often, good causes become too specific in their scope. For example, Urban Bush Women brought racial and gender concerns to the forefront in their dance performance last year; the group was comprised almost entirely of black female dancers. The concerns of black females should be voiced by all groups, not just black females themselves. Organizations with these messages should work together for a common cause and incorporate those who do not necessarily share their differences into their activism.
We need to realize that we are one community. While subdivisons can be helpful for continuing traditions, they should not be adhered to at the cost of other concerns. The collaborations of the MBMC and the Chapel Choir are a sure step in the right direction, but there remains a lot of ground to cover. Those of us in the musical community at Duke should help to heal the divisions here and not perpetuate prejudices.
Rebecca Christie is a Trinity junior and city & state editor of The Chronicle.
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