Tag: Camp Fasola 2012

Yesterday afternoon, on the last day of Camp Fasola, half a dozen of us were sitting on a porch at Camp McDowell; I was the only non-Southerner in the group. We were idly talking over what we had done at camp, and one of the others brought up the fact that sometimes Camp Fasola various people would sit in a lesson showing that they knew more than the others, or even more than whomever was teaching the lesson. He said, “It’s like a — like — ” and then he stopped, unable to find a suitable way of putting it. I said drily, “Up in New England, we call it a pissing match.” Everyone laughed, but we went on to refine the idea further: a sense of competition often emerges among Sacred Harp singers.

Why is this so? Why do we Sacred Harp singers get competitive at times?

Camp Fasola culminated in a two hour singing tonight; local singers were invited to attend, and a dozen or more were in attendance.

Tonight’s singing was in the Chapel of St. Francis at Camp McDowell. The interior is mostly wood and glass, which was good for the sound of our singing; but the ceiling is very high and steeply pitched, and the room has a long reverberation time, which was not so good. I sat on the left end of the front bench of the bass section for an hour, and I could hear fairly well from there — more precisely, I could hear the trebles (since they were directly across from me) and the altos (since they were to my immediate left), and I could hear the front bench tenors, and above all that a general hum of singing. It was a good sound, a bright and exciting sound, but not what you’d call a clear and distinct sound.

Many of tonight’s leaders set pretty fast tempos. It may be that the room pushed us in that direction; or more likely it was pent-up excitement and energy being released at the end of the last full day of camp. I know when it was my turn to lead, I set a tempo that was a little faster than I had intended. Sometimes you just get caught up in the mood of a singing, whether you mean to or not.

There has been a teen conference of some sort going on while we have been here at Camp McDowell. Their leaders asked us to sing for their evening worship service tonight, so after the community singing, we walked over to sing for them. The teens were sitting on the ground completely silent, each one holding a candle. We walked up in silence, sang two verses of both 47b and 45t, then walked away in silence. I don’t know what it felt like for them, but it was a magical moment for me: singing at night under a starry sky for a hundred or teens all lit by candlelight, then walking away leaving silence behind us.

At Camp Fasola this morning in a workshop called “Sacred Harp Harmony and Style,” Dan Brittain kept saying things that were eminently quotable. I tried to write down a few of the things he said:

In response to several questions about the “right” way to do things: “Respect the local tradition.” And once he added that you’ve got to travel around and listen to how people sing.

More on the importance of listening: “You’ve got to listen to each other in order for it to sound like Sacred Harp. You can’t just sing loud — and not listen to the people around you.”

After singing no. 288 White: “Moderate speed should be the rule. You can hear a lot more of those harmonies. You can sing fast, but that should be the exception.”

Thunderstorms today, with some heavy rain and near gale winds.

Maybe there was electricity in the air, because the singing was more lively this evening during the class singing. I especially noticed that tempos were faster. I was watching some of the campers who have never sung Sacred Harp music before, and at times the pace was fast enough that they looked lost. When I talked with a couple of them later, they said they did feel a little lost.

And I thought about Dan Brittain’s workshop in the morning when he said that his preference was to lead tunes at slower tempos, so the class can better hear the harmonies.

Carol and I arrived at Camp Fasola, held at Camp McDowell in Double Springs, Alabama, in time plenty of time for dinner, and right after dinner was the first evening singing in Pradat Lodge. I found it a little difficult to hear the other parts at first — maybe the room was not square enough, or the ceiling was a little high, or the carpet on the floor deadened the sound too much. In any case, it took me a good quarter of an hour to get used to the sound, and be able to pick out the other parts.

Once I figured out how to hear, I could sit back and enjoy the singing. Most leaders led at tempos that felt somewhat slow to me; but I’ve been singing every week in a local singings that’s known for its fast tempos. I liked the slower tempos on most of the tunes we sang tonight; I also noticed that the slower tempos required singers to accent more carefully, with more differentiation between the first and third beats than is required with a faster tempo.