Showing posts with label NT Fletcher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NT Fletcher. Show all posts

Thursday, August 27, 2015

In Choir, the Best of Two Worlds


I have been involved in choral music since I was seven. For fifteen years, I have been singing, writing, and collaborating music. My time at the Saint Thomas Choir School in New York, for four years of middle school, was influential in my development as a part-time musician, influenced by classmates, teachers; and choirmasters, who were also mentors and talent-finders. 

Two of Saint Thomas’ legends in liturgical music, Dr. Gerre Hancock and Dr. John Scott, now rest in peace. Gerre Hancock’s departure as Choirmaster in 2004 was planned well in advanced, and I knew that my first year at Saint Thomas would be his last. He would move back to Texas with his wife, Judith, after 34 years with Saint Thomas, and continue teaching music at the University of Texas for seven years.  Dr. John Scott departed his earthly vocation of choirmaster at Saint Thomas suddenly one Wednesday ago, after an acclaimed tour in Europe as a performing organist. What I am writing here is not so much purely a memorial to Dr. Scott, but a recollection from the choir stall of having sung under two choirmasters at St. Thomas. 

In September 2005, the boys of Saint Thomas Choir School rehearsed with John Scott for the first time in his new role as choirmaster at Saint Thomas. He had come from a similar duty at Saint Paul’s Cathedral in London, and we choirboys wondered why a Brit had come across the Atlantic Ocean to rehearse us. He was a bit befuddled about how U.S. Customs treated his century-old piano. Coming from the quintessential formality of English high culture, Dr. Scott took the effort to familiarize himself with American norms. Two centuries of independence from Great Britain gave rise to differences in vocabulary and culture, even hairstyle.  In Britain, punks have short hair, and no choirboy over there would have a buzzcut. He learned quickly that buzzcuts are synonymous with clean-cut here in the States.

What has amazed me is how great institutes of learning retain their prized educators and staff. As Choirmaster of Saint Thomas for his last ten years, his endurance follows in the good tradition of long-tenured choirmasters and headmasters. So has the time passed that life has come full circle. A friend and classmate of mine interviewed with Dr. Scott for one of the men’s voices in the choir this year. The men of the choir, who fill the lower voices, are truly professionals. They find time for rehearsals and choral services at St. Thomas between other prominent gigs in New York City. To get grade-school boys, with mixed levels of experience, but with recognized potential, to sing at such a caliber is a significant accomplishment. Gerre Hancock knew the traditional laid-back American demeanor of childhood. Rehearsals with him had interludes where he would make one of his signature piano improvisations, and a few jokes.  Dr. Hancock used his talent to develop the choir to its full potential. To him, the success of the boys of the choir in mastering challenging works of music was recognition enough for each choirboy. As a bonus, each choirboy got a ‘rank’, which was determined by seniority first, and then individual accomplishment. 

Dr. Scott understood that developing individual talent within the choir is an evolution: a choirboy could achieve full potential in the four or five years that the choirmaster had with him. What Dr. Scott accomplished with choirboys who began under his tenure was incredible, indeed; and the fruits of this effort became evident as members of the eighth-grade Class of 2009 and 2010 achieved distinction in solo and marquee performances throughout New York.  There was a risk that he assumed: attention to top choral achievers could affect the morale of other choirboys. The largest culprit to maximizing the potential of a choirboy is middle-school biology: the awkwardness of voice cracks in seventh and eighth grades. When that happens, the choirboy fades gracefully into the sunset. But for the other average choirboys, would lack of attention cause hard feelings? The answer is that Dr. Scott gave attention to all, even when it was discreet. Reports one member of the Class of 2008, “Dr. Scott really did care about me”. The tangible results of this effort was one-on-one voice lessons for all, and an MVP list to recognize personal accomplishments commensurate with one’s ability.

Faced with a slew of ‘retirements’ forced on by changing voices in the Class of 2007 and 2008, John Scott had other ways to develop the musical talent of students who were once star choirboys. One such way was his keen interest in evaluating, and performing, student compositions of music. This unspoken program had started under Dr. Gerre Hancock, a recognized choral composer who embraced expressionism in his compositions. He was an improvising organist, composer, and choirmaster; who as I recall, in his final year, mentored Hank Rosenthal in music composition. Dr. Scott, who was also a composer in traditional-style choral works, expanded this informal program, and, with the confidence of his expertise, allowed the choir to sing some student compositions.  Among members of the Class of 2005 and later, who had experience with Dr. Scott, there is a disk jockey, several performing musicians and singers, and composers. (Class sizes average seven students per year). As long as you had the courage to embrace your talent, Dr. Scott would be there to point you in the right direction.

Dr. Scott was a man wholly dedicated to his work as a liturgical musician. He was a fan of Dietrich Buxtehude and J.S. Bach, German Baroque organists and composers. He was a renowned organist, and his performances of fanfares and voluntaries would draw a crowd of choirboys to the organ console. He was a composer. He was an ambassador to the best England had to offer, in hors d’oevres and tea. He was, first and foremost, a conductor and choirmaster. In this role, he developed untapped talent from each member of the choir. He was convincing and personable: he was the face of public relations during a campaign to raise funds for the renovation of the century-old Grand Organ at Saint Thomas. His mainstay phrase was: “to the Glory of God”- “Ad Maiorem Dei Gloria”. Dr. John Scott’s legacy lives on with the Saint Thomas Choir of Men and Boys as it moves forward through this challenging time. “Dedication and Professionalism”; “A Great Star”; a “Most Accomplished Musician”. These are words that my friends from Saint Thomas Choir School used to describe Dr. John Scott in the days after he left the world. His legacy lives in the musical performances of Saint Thomas Choir School alumni, in their compositions, and in our memories.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Typing

First Blogpost on a laptop. The late Mr. Henderson let us use his spiffy job, but as close as I came to blogging on that laptop, NTFletch would do it first. Anyway, Little Brother is going back to Philly. Boy, these laptops are only good for looking at websites, not typing.

So I'm getting my blast off this laptop when I can...

Thursday, November 27, 2008

113 x 2 Thanksgiving

I totally felt like a tourist. After getting off the and trying to figure out whether the express or local would come first (unlike most stations in the NYC subway, Penn Sta. blue line lacks a crossover), and dashing to the business dinner. We got on the local, and shuffled to the express at the next stop! Having had the NJ Transit train arrived in New York 1 hr 15 min late, we missed cocktails and part of dinner. Afterward, after a long delay, as a group, the younger St. Thomas alumni went out to in an effeminate style to the 68th street theater, ten blocks north. Duane Reade, Starbucks, theater closed and locked. How could this be? It was therefore necessary to go back downtown to 42nd street. Since all of us were cheapskates, we didn't take a taxi or a subway. When we all got to 58th again, somebody got hungry. Realizing that the last show was actually at 12:45am, and that no one really wanted to see Quantum of Solace that badly, we headed out to Bella Vita- the slices went up to $3 each! Anyway, because they wanted to rid of their pizza, they cut us deals. Some late-night supper with Chocolate News and Futurama before realizing that it was 1:30 am. By then, this was the most wasted I had made myself to date, surpassing the Dec.1 lock-in at the Cathedral last year (refer to a post around that date). So we got into bed and all. Truth and Dare with Stefane, nothing too weird, though, and we set the game into a logic loop (I dare Stefane to stop doing this game). So we all fell asleep. Or that was what I thought.

I had a good long sleep until 8:57 am, according to the clock on the microwave. I felt totally refreshed. Surprised not another soul was not awake, I looked at my own clock. It was 7:57. The clock had not been reset since the organist-in-residence left this posh midtown apartment (approx value 3,500+/mo.) in July. So I put my head back into bed. Some time later, I remembered that I needed to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade pass by on Broadway, for I never had the chance to do so.

Got some good shots. But where was Kermit? I had vowed to see him as a float while in New York. Well, I at least I saw the parade, I thought, as I got dressed for church. I took a wide look out the window. Some Escalade and a small dirigible. Then I heard loud applause. A green head. Sure enough, it was Kermit, and his dominating minions holding him to ground were dressed in florescent green jumpsuits, as I had been informed. I got two awesome shots, and jolly-lept to church.

The service was quite enjoyable, with good company. Sitting in the wide, dark, balcony of Saint Thomas Fifth Avenue that was unknown to the hoards of tourists let us rest in peace. I pulled out two knit finger puppets I bought in a hurry for $5 on the way over. A lion and a giraffe. THe crocodile would have been nice, but they were sold out. Yes, I had meant to buy them as a gift for someone all the way back in sixth grade. I lost one brief window of opportunity, and he was gone when I returned from church then. So I willed this not to happen again and all. How's that for rewriting history? Some greetings, nice to meet yous and all before taking the walk down Avenue of the Americas, cutting to Seventh and Times Square perpendicular to Radio City. With the grand avenue closed, Little Brother and I alternated taking touristy shots of each other as we rattled to Penn Station (at 33rd, not 34th!) past Macy's Herald Square. I didn't get to see any large floats being deflated of helium, though. They were probably done at 28th street, a larger street than the others. Looking for a cheap lunch took us around the large loop under Madison Square Garden, and out to a falafel vendor outside, who sold those lamb gyros for $5. Coupled with two cans of 99 cent Arizona Iced tea and a $1 bottle of water, we faced the train departure board. Twenty minutes delayed. The only one out of 20 trains on the board. Oh well, the train could catch up time. Better start late and fast, rather than on time, go fast, then wait for the schedule to catch up. We looked for our unaccompanied minor friend, who might get us bumped into business class. Eating the gyro on the floor in the coach section of waiting room wasted a little time. Just looking into the sparsely populated First Class waiting area... 2:25pm. The 169 was supposed to be here, with the delay. Instead, the message went vague. 'Delayed' I was in so much anticipation of my first Amtrak ride.

Not present for our class was NTFletch and his co-partner and twin brother, Zak. The school board thought that Thanksgiving was a racist holiday, so they had school until 3, and band practice, too. ?!

Even with your stock fund in the gutter,
We all have to be thankful for gas in the $1.-- range. That's what matters most.

Oh, and yes. I found out that three of the brothers went out to the 24-hour Apple store at the GM building (59+5th ave) to seek out internet. Why? Facebook.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Tough day at the office?

Waiting for NTFletch's next post. I am one of a supposed many who eagerly await the next spoken word- unlike in this part, a post is a sweet treat that is built up to- not a daily of bi-daily given. Nevertheless, I sojourn on, gathering steam, as they say.

Today, we worked on our mayor project- choose a candidate from your group of 12, and, if he/she wins against the other two, their team wins a prize. Does the team I am in have a chance to win> It lays in my hands. It's true. For whichever intervention came, I was almost unanimously chosesn as the candidate. Pressure is on me.

I plan to finish The Cold War: A New History tomorrow afternoon, after I give the make-or-break speech for the model-mayoral bid.

Caveat Emptor:
Still not done with your first book this summer? Don't worry- I still have to take a week or two in August to skim the readings, again. But pretty good progress, though.

PS- I got up and left early to go to the Convention Center to pick up my Debit card- And they had it! I'm so happy!...

Thursday, March 1, 2007

March 1, 2007

My new blog! How exciting!

Technology these days, so amazing that anybody can have a website. In this blog I will be able to easily do issues of Tuck Shop New on the computer instead of being handwritten. I don't know, but am I the only person that can read my handwriting. The minor disadvantage is that I can't write anywhere I want; I don't have a laptop. I think the quickest way to get one, I guess, is to get a prepaid charge card (or a real charge card if you have one) and go to one of these websites, bonusgiftpromotions.com, freegiftcardsnow.com, and claim yours. I'll do a blog on this sometime soon. So back to story. I can just copy straight from my blog and throw in other good stuff into a document and publish it. I'll try it for one of these issues sometime. Thank you Mr. NT Fletcher for inspiring me and thank you, the reader. for reading my blog, and have a nice day :)