This summer I had the pleasure of attending an excellent course in a beautiful setting—the Vancouver Early Music Programme & Festival’s Baroque Vocal Programme, in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. The title of the course was “The Theatre of Music: Bringing Movement, Passion & Projection to the Interpretation of Baroque Vocal Music.” The faculty included Ellen Hargis, Ray Nurse, Steven Adby, Margret Gries and Doreen Oke.
As the title of the program indicates, this is not a typical pay-to-sing opera program. Yes, we did study and perform Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas, but the outcome was not a fully staged opera, nor was performing an opera the focus of the course. Yes, we focused entirely on Baroque vocal music, but we studied more than performance practice. The core of the course consisted of learning how to communicate with an audience, whether singing a recital of lute songs, solos in the context of an oratorio, or performing in an opera. It is a skill that singers can apply to all genres of music across all periods.
I was drawn to this program because of a career shift I made from musical theatre to early music performance. I had been performing early music professionally without any specific training in that field, and was feeling somewhat like an imposter. I do have a master’s in opera, and was accepted into the doctoral program at Indiana University’s Early Music Institute, but due to a number of complications, was unable to begin studies before my offer of acceptance expired. So when I found out that this two-week intensive summer course fit perfectly around my performance schedule, I jumped at the chance—and what a joy it was.
Vancouver is a truly awesome city, with heavenly summer weather, and incredible restaurants, sights, culture and atmosphere. To spend two weeks in such a rich environment—immersed in early music study with a talented group of diverse musicians, under the tutelage and guidance of a superb faculty—was a dream.
Participants had a wide range of experience and came from differing backgrounds. Professional singers, students, scientists, teachers and pianists from the United States, Canada and England came together, all sharing a passion for or curiosity about early music. In addition to a number of sopranos, the group included two countertenors, a baritone, and two mezzo-sopranos. The program limits class size, and we had about 12 in attendance.A typical day began at 9 a.m. with a master class with Ellen Hargis, with harpsichordists Doreen Oke or Margret Gries—or Ray Nurse on lute—providing expert accompaniment. On the very first day of the course, Ms. Hargis asked each of us to sing something on the spur of the moment—quite a shock and a horror for me, as the first to sing, after spending the night on a plane with a toddler. This was a great icebreaker, however—we quickly got to know one another as human beings as well as performers. Subsequently, four people sang in master class each morning, after coaching the piece with either lute or harpsichord prior to the class. We took our first coffee break at around 11:15 each morning, with coffee, tea and goodies provided by the program, which was much appreciated.
A lecture class occupied the second part of the morning. This turned out to be one of my most treasured surprises about the course. Topics ranged from philosophy to business, and I found the material insightful and inspiring. A common touchstone for the course was the concept of rhetoric, which we discussed and referenced in depth.
We studied vocal technique and its history, dealt with issues of range, keys, pitch, vibrato and the “early music sound,” (today’s concept of it, compared to evidence from the time). The faculty provided extensive repertoire lists, resource guides, bibliographies and advice on Baroque history, culture, little-known composers, and anecdotes of interest.
Lunch became an opportunity to pour through the wonderful resources available in the University of British Columbia Music Library, or to practice, if a room was available.
After lunch, we dove into opera rehearsal with Steven Adby. We used Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas as a vehicle to learn Baroque gesture, which we learned in small doses then incorporated into the opera. Steven taught gesture as it was used in the Baroque era. It served as an excellent basis for the subject of gesture, in general and in recital performance (an issue that has always caused me distress). How much movement is too much? What is appropriate? How can I find natural gestures enough to fill a recital that aren’t repetitive or don’t ring false? By starting with bare bones basics, I now feel quite comfortable moving while I sing, without leaving the safety of the crook of the piano.
In addition to gesture, we explored stage movement appropriate to the time, and for some, an introduction to moving while singing, within the context of a dramatic work. When time and space permitted, Steve also ran dance classes, teaching dances from the Baroque era, and steps we may encounter in the staging of Baroque opera.
As for the rehearsal of Dido and Aeneas, we were advised before arriving to look at the entire score—chorus, secondary and principle roles—a daunting undertaking. One or two attendees had the entire score memorized; the rest of us had familiarized ourselves with one role and learned the others as we went. The focus was on “learning” rather than “performing.”
The faculty also encouraged us to sing a role in which we may not have imagined ourselves. I’m about as typical a Belinda as you will find, but over the course of the two weeks I sang Dido, Chorus Soprano I and II, and Second Witch.
Everyone performed in the chorus in any scene in which they were not performing a lead role. For example, one day I sang Dido in Scene 1, then became a witch for Scene 2, and a courtier chorister for Act III. This was a great way to learn how to quickly adjust physically, contrasting royalty with grotesques. It was a great venue in which to push myself beyond that comfort zone in which I perform only things I feel I know cold. I volunteered to sing parts for practice sight-reading, something I would never do in a professional situation. I learned that, in a pinch, I could probably step in fairly well in that type of situation.
On the final day of the course, we ran the opera twice, with the orchestra members from the Instrumental Baroque Programme providing accompaniment, and with our usual revolving lineup of lead-role singing alternated with chorus work from scene to scene.
Each day concluded with coaching sessions and private lessons. We each received two lessons, (I opted for a voice lesson with Ellen Hargis and a gesture lesson with Steven Adby), and three coaching sessions. I had one with Ray Nurse (lute) and two with Margret Gries (harpsichord). These one-on-one rehearsals were a great way to delve into specifics on a particular piece, and for the faculty to get to know each singer’s goals and needs.
Different faculty headed each class session—but most attended at most of the classes and freely offered their points of view, seminar style, on topics being discussed, which I found very useful. The generosity of the faculty and their commitment to sharing their gifts made the time spent with them very fulfilling. After the conclusion of the course, they encouraged us to continue using the resources available to us by keeping in touch with faculty members.
Many evenings or weekend days, we attended very fine concerts presented as part of the Vancouver Early Music Festival. Five concerts were free to course participants. (For details, see the conclusion of this article.) The program also offered participants a weekend harpsichord registration workshop with Ton Air, a Dutch harpsichord maker, free of charge. I took advantage of this class, though I’m not a harpsichordist, and it was fascinating to learn the craft of instrument making, and simply to watch a master at work on a beautiful instrument.
As for the cost, the tuition alone made me think twice about even applying to the program, not to mention the additional costs of travel, housing and food. I am lucky to have a very supportive extended family, without whose members I would not have been able to take advantage of this wonderful opportunity. They encouraged me to apply and helped me meet the financial needs of attending. In addition to their aid, I received a partial scholarship from Early Music Vancouver, for which I applied at the same time that I sent my application to the program. I was also awarded an Astral Career Grant from the National Foundation for the Arts, a resource I found in Classical Singer magazine.
My mother donated my plane ticket, and her services as nanny and chef while in Vancouver, since I travel with my 18-month-old daughter. My in-laws donated enough money to cover my housing expenses.
I also raised money by performing a concert of American standards: music by George Gershwin, Cole Porter, Jerome Kern, Hoagy Carmichael and Harold Arlen. I sang and my husband played piano, and we performed the concert at my church—no ticket price, simply donations. I sent simple invitations to a mailing list of church supporters, friends and colleagues. Approximately 40 people attended and I raised enough to pay the outstanding tuition balance from their donations, left in hats at the door. We provided light refreshments after the concert and had an informal reception with the guests, who were very interested in hearing about the program.
Housing was available on campus, including various types of accommodations for a range of prices, but I was lucky to find housing at the home of one of the other participants. A mother of two, she understood the difficulty of traveling with children and offered my mother, my daughter and I a room in her house, for shared living expenses. This was much less than the upfront cost of dorm housing and a meal plan, and was a more comfortable arrangement for my family.
This is the only program in which I have participated outside of my regular college education. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Vancouver is a gorgeous city, the course was packed with useful information, and the faculty was superb: knowledgeable, personable, down to earth and very supportive. I felt well taken care of and cared for, and was treated as a professional. It was a treat to be able to spend every day immersed in the study, practice and discussion of early music.
If you asked each participant what they felt was the focus of the course, I imagine you would get 12 different answers. The structure presented us with tools and information we could take away and use, like a smorgasbord from which each of us could choose his or her focus, rather than a one-size-fits-all meal. For me, it gave a foundation from which to work, by providing a sense of the time and culture in which the music was created and instilling the confidence to trust my own instincts in developing my own, historically informed, performance style.
Obviously, I highly recommend this program. A bit of advice I would offer to anyone contemplating attending this program: Book a little extra time after the course to experience Vancouver. The course runs for two weeks and keeps the singers very busy. I thought I would be able to fit in some sightseeing, but I was wrong. I was wishing I had an extra few days to explore all the city had to offer, as well as to spend time in the UBC library. It is an unparalleled resource I was unprepared to use fully until after I had completed the course and knew what to look for, and what I was looking at in the stacks.
What I found most interesting about the effect of the course on me: I went into it expecting one thing, and came out of it having learned a wealth of things about something else entirely. I expected to learn about very technical and practical aspects of Baroque musical performance: how to ornament properly, how much vibrato to use, what books to read. Instead, I learned to trust my instincts, to arm myself with reliable resources, and to stand up for my opinions and preferences in my performance decisions. I learned there is no such thing as the “early music police.” The apparent EMPs I have encountered—and undoubtedly will encounter again in the future—now hold no power over me.
In essence, I learned a well-rounded approach to the art of musical performance—the next level of technique, which I identify as artistry. I learned that this next level is not taught by rote, but by inspiration and guidance to finding it in yourself, and by trusting that your take on it is worthy of expression.
