Back in 2013 the Elm Ensemble, run by Sally and Josh Messner, asked if I'd join them to sing in the Bach Cantata BWV 125 "Mit Fried und Freud ich fahr dahin." And they asked me back to sing the same cantata with them again this season, so I was up in Minneapolis on February 2.
When I opened up the score to start practicing in late 2024, I realized I had no recollection of having sung it with them before. There were a few markings in my score, but not much, and it was like getting to know the piece all over again. It was odd. Until we were actually in-rehearsal last month, and Josh reminded me of when we'd performed it once before: in February of 2013.
Ah.
No wonder I had no recollection of it--my dad had passed away only weeks prior and I had a serious lung infection. It didn't prevent me from singing, but I was run down, on a lot of medication, and deep in grief. And shock. It's shocking when your dad dies, especially because life continues on, even when you want to yell, "Stop the rotation of the earth! I want to get off!"
That explained the few markings in my score. But I did remember having driven home after that service in 2013 and on the way home I stopped at bought groceries. Deep and grief and with a lung infection, on loads of medication. And the next morning I got up again and went to work. Beyond that I have very few memories of 2013.
This time was different. Sally had made a smart choice and programmed the same cantata for the morning service at her church job at Hennepin Avenue United Methodist Church AND for the afternoon service at Christ Church Lutheran. That's a good idea in any case, and turns out it was the exact 300th anniversary of the premiere of the piece. 300 years ago, on February 2, 1725, Bach premiered the piece and performed it at two churches the same day.
And so did Sally. And so did I, because the soloist for Hennepin Avenue Methodist was ill and couldn't sing. (It pained me for the other soloist, getting sick when you have such a beautiful piece is such a bummer!) So Sally conducted, and a bunch of other choir members and I sang both services. We sang downtown in the morning and then again in South Minneapolis in the afternoon.
You can watch the video of the cantata (my solos are in movements 2 and 5; there are 6 movements total) here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fdXr5S8_0co
We have now officially joined the ranks of the great Johann Sebastian Bach! This meme I made to mark the occasion is proof:
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
Last week I took one of my lovely colleagues out for lunch, as I've decided to start singing again. We hashed through loads of things, like agents, current pay (very important), information on new ensembles, and even a Jungian psychoanalyst and her view of der Erlkönig.
We also talked shortly about gowns. I'm not gonna lie, it's one of my favorite parts of singing--dressing up in a gorgeous gown, picking it out because it has exactly the color I like, and because sometimes a hot pink dress makes a splash.
It's been a long pause. Some of it was hard, like losing a gig I really needed and was truly excited to sing with colleagues I enjoy tremendously. Some of it was easy--I was tired of pushing myself to practice. It needs to be an invitation to explore, not a toxically perfectionistic endeavor. A lot of it was in the span of the middle.
What has stayed, however, is the love of beautiful things like beautiful music. Things which exist purely because they are beautiful. And re-creating a piece of music today, because it will be its own animal today.
So stay tuned here, check out the calendar, and I'll send out information as I have it.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
Recently I started reading a book on Johann Sebastian Bach I've had for years and am happy to have finally taken it off the shelf.
There is a long section on Bach's family of musicians, and by that I mean the men who were actually written about, the ones who got to go out and work, and were then considered professionals.
And they were terribly, horribly underpaid.
A couple of days ago I caught up with a singing friend who also bemoans how low his singing pay has always been.
Then this morning I read this:
Page 59:
Even the long-suffering Heinrich is driven to point out to Count Schwarzburg ... that so far he has not received any remuneration for a whole year, having to 'bet for it almost with tears'.
This was from a day when a musician's meager monetary pay was accompanied by things like firewood and beer, maybe grain.
So really, not much has changed.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
Earlier this year I took the Akimbo Podcast Workshop (definitely recommend if you have never podcasted and don't know where to start) and started a podcast for my German business.
One of the best parts of taking a workshop like that one is connecting with other people who are learning to podcast or have started podcasting and they come back to support the first-time learners.
Then sometimes you get asked to be on another podcast!
Craig Constantine asked, so we recorded this podcast yesterday, all about possibilities.
We covered a lot of ground.
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We have a lot of STE_M culture - science, technology, engineering and math.
STE_M culture allows us to be right or wrong. To hypothesize, test, and review.
It's possible to seemingly perfect these things.
It's possible to compete because these things are perfectly measurable.
Measure something that's 5 inches in diameter, use mathematical formulas, build a robot, determine how to make dirty water clean again.
It's HOT right now. STE_M has been hot for years. Go on LinkedIn, any organization that works with kids in schools and the vast majority of them will proudly display their STE_M banner.
There is something missing, though. That _ is an important part.
What's missing from STE_M? A. Arts.
STE_M isn't all of life. STEAM is much more than STE_M.
The A, the Arts, employs more because the Arts ask the question "Why?" and also try to answer it, too.
Einstein didn't become a scientist because he thought "This mathematical formula is my job."
He wanted to find out why - why time, why this, why that.
Mahler didn't write Symphony No. 2 to make an orchestra reach a certain decibel level. He wrote the symphony to express his ideas about life and destiny, simple faith, and what it means for love to illuminate life and death. Turns out, his ideas are extraordinarily passionate, which translates into a seriously, seriously loud piece of music.
And it's utterly moving.
You can't measure that.
You don't need safety goggles for that.
Maybe noise reduction ear plugs.
Nature isn't made up of beakers, laser tape measures, and mathematical formulas. We use those things to measure nature. Nature is made up of trees, waves, air, sunshine, rain, thunder and lightning, and animals.
You can measure a tree and a wave, but you can't measure nature's effect on you.
That is what makes you human.
That is art. It's all the parts.
STEAM.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
A lot of people (yell) talk about culture these days.
That yelling, I mean "talking," is part of our culture.
Our culture is loud. Obnoxiously loud.
Our culture is filled with strife and conflict. People are "always angling for something bigger/better/faster/more."
Our culture is exhausting.
Because conversations happen on a very laser-focused matter, out of context, without thought for the big picture. The big whole-of-everything.
The big whole-of-everything is our societal culture, which I'd like to say is how we all treat one another, the assumptions we make about one another, and how we assume things will go from this point forward. Based on conversation X, which we found helpful. Or conversation Y, which made us mad.
That's one definition of culture - how we are with one another.
There's another definition of culture: the arts.
All the arts: music, painting, writing, sculpture, architecture, basket weaving, finger painting, graffiti, jewelry making, etc. etc. etc.
That culture is what feeds us as human beings. That culture is what makes us feel human
That culture gives us the possibility of breathing in and out in a relaxed manner. Breathe in, breathe out.
It's humane culture.
Culture is also good for us. Artistic culture, creative culture, helps us feel our emotions, think new thoughts, shape new ideas.
And that is what helps us shape our culture. The way we are with one another.
We need (artistic) culture to help us shape our (societal) culture.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
One of the coolest parts about singing with the Elm Ensemble is finding out all the cool connections people have to other musicians, conductors, and composers.
The Elm Ensemble conducted an interview with Peter Mercer-Taylor, who reseached the adaptions we recorded of these five American Classical Hymns. You can read the interview here (there's a link to his book, too).
Then you can check out all five recordings here:
Enjoy your listening!
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Ope! There's a sixth one - there's also this one from Haydn, called BROUGHAM. It's the lower half of the page in the video.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
The Elm Ensemble has published several more videos, this one being Life From Death is Jesus' Doing.
It's from the Southern Harmony, which is a hymn and tune book used for singing and teaching singing. Southern Harmony and Shape Note, which is the specific way that the notes are shaped to indicate which pitch they are on the scale.
Interestingly, it took two degrees, a 5-year stint in Germany, and returning to the U.S. before I'd ever heard of or sung anything from the Southern Harmony book or from a shape note hymnal.
We used modern notation (modern note shapes) for this one.
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Six or seven years ago somebody asked me to sing a St. John Passion. It was two rehearsals (for the solos only), three performances, and I believe two sound recording sessions.
The offer was something like $250.
Plus exposure.
At first I wasn't sure if he meant $250 per call or $250 total. $250 total would have been less than minimum wage.
I tried to clarify, and he proceeded to berate me to take the gig because "All of my colleagues had accepted the same amount of pay."
So he first offered waaaay too little money, he then berated me, and then disclosed the pay of my colleagues.
Because he pays in "exposure."
"Exposure" means "I want you to sing in my concert for publicity. Because if you sing, then you'll get publicity, and magically money will appear in your bank account! Your rent will be paid! Groceries will simply show up in your refrigerator! The car? Fully tanked at all times! But I don't have to actually work to fund raise to pay you, because I'm cheap with my time and my energy."
So many people have asked friends and me to sing for "exposure," that all we need is a knowing glance at one another. To this I say:
"I'm from Wisconsin. Where I'm from, people die of exposure.
This happens in other areas of my life as well, for example last week someone asked me if I'd teach them German for free.
I like to keep a friendly professional tone in my correspondence, so I didn't respond, "Well, my landlord doesn't accept brownie points as partial rent, so NO." I simply referred that person to the page with the lesson and tuition information on it.
Within this idea of working for "exposure," there exists a lot of sexism, essentially misogyny, because the underlying assumption I've come across over the past 20+ years of professional singing is that either my parents or a husband are paying for my life so I can "be an artist."
Which in the conductor's mind then justifies not paying me a living wage for my work, because my life is bankrolled not by the work I do, but by someone else. It's not the conductor's responsibility then, is it?
To contrast, this, one of the best conversations I've ever had about charging an appropriate fee for concerts was with a conductor, who said simply, "You calculate how many hours you'll be on stage and in rehearsal and multiple that by $X. As you gather more experience, you raise it, and you charge more for difficult pieces because it requires more practice time. That's how it works."
He, the conductor, is also a fantastic negotiator, which is crucial for performing artists. And women. Because no one pulls us aside like they do to little Johnny and says, "Here's how you go into a negotiation. First..."
That conductor has never once asked me to sing for exposure.
Which is good, because I'm from Wisconsin and I know one thing for sure: people die of exposure.
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N.B. I originally read about exposure and the phrase "People die of exposure" referring to underpaid artistic labor on a blog post a long time ago and don't know the author's name any more. If you know that piece, would you please send me the link via the "contact" form? Thanks!
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
The tritone is a fantastic interval and it signals something significant: a change, a resolution, an ending, or it signals more mysterious things are ahead.
Tritones need to be resolved. Music theory says so.
So does your ear.
Nobody would like West Side Story if Maria's name were only sung as Maaa-reeeee... Did you sing it in your head?
It has to be resolved.
The tritone is dissonant to our ears, and we want the consonance of the resolution.
This interval used to be referred to as "the devil's interval." Because it represented the devil (this was, obviously, decided by some churchy person), it wasn't allowed in church music for a long time.
There's the adage "The devil is in the detail."
Then there's the other adage, "God is in the detail."
Hmm...
Without the tritone, there is no need for resolution.
The resolution makes the melody, the phrase feel complete.
Right now we are living through a reeeeeally long tritone.
Lots of things are incomplete.
Mysterious things lie in wait for us.
Lots of change.
Not much resolution.
Constant endings, and yet no ending at all.
The option then, is to learn the tritone really well.
What do the sound waves feel like?
What mystery follows the first mystery? the seventh? the 380th?
What other change will this bring?
What's the next dissonant thing?
There isn't yet a whole lot of resolution. We've got dissonance. Loads of it. So learn it. Learn whatever you can.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
After crying through the news last night and this morning this popped into my head.
Bach BWV 170, Movement 3
In German:
Wie jammern mich doch die verkehrten Herzen
die dir, mein Gott, so sehr zuwider sein:
Ich zittre recht und fühle tausend Schmerzen,
wenn sie sich nur an Rach und Hass erfreun.
My English translation:
How they wail at me, these backward hearts,
who are so contrary to you, my God.
I just shake and feel a thousand pains
when they rejoice in revenge and hate.
Replace "God" with "democracy" if you like.
Replace "democracy" with "decency" if you like.
Die verkehrten Herzen.
Those backwards hearts.
Cantata 170: Vergnügte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust by J. S. Bach
Movement 3: Wie jammern mich doch die verkehrten Herzen (Aria)
Recorded live with the South Dakota Symphony Orchestra, Sioux Falls, South Dakota, January 9-10, 2016
Conducted by Delta David Gier. Many, many thanks to the SDSO for the recording and permission for its use!
Listen to the entire cantata here.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
It's Christmas!
The Elm Ensemble has recorded "Let All Together Praise Our God" for Christmas.
The recording is now up on YouTube.
I hope you enjoy it! It was really fun making this recording.
Listen to this piece on YouTube
Merry Christmas. :)
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
The Elm Ensemble has more music to help sustain you this holiday season.
In the Bleak Midwinter, text by Christina Rosetti.
I've sung this song often, most frequently in the past 10 years.
This one is my favorite.
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- Written by: Nicole Warner
The Elm Ensemble has recorded and posted new Advent/Christmas hymns and they are up on YouTube!
Here is one of them: O Lord, How Shall I Meet You.
Go and listen. :)
Listen to this piece on YouTube
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- Written by: Nicole Warner