Abstract
This article conveys data collected in an ethnographic case study exploring monthly participatory community singing events in one city in the American Midwest. I analyze these data through the lens of a “traditional” choral conductor who, prior to undertaking this investigation, had little knowledge about participatory singing traditions; I also utilize scholarship about participatory versus presentational music activities as defined by Turino. Themes that arose during data analysis include: the context of folk music culture of Middletown, the inclusivity of community singing events, the role of the song-leader in facilitating these events, and “wounding stories” from participants who were discouraged by music educators. Perhaps in reflecting on the dichotomy between performative and participatory singing events, the choral community may begin to unlearn strictures that make some singers feel unwelcome.
I have always found singing to be very powerful. As a choral musician, I have taken part in many impactful experiences in which trained singers collaborated in making beautiful music. After teaching secondary choral music in American secondary schools, I discovered a thriving folk music scene in the city in which I attended graduate school. This folk music scene included a monthly community sing held at a church near campus—an outgrowth of the Solstice Singing Festival (pseudonym), an annual weekend-long community singing event. When I first attended one of these monthly events, I immediately was struck by how different it felt to a choral rehearsal.
Review of selected literature
In recent years, the American choral community has contemplated complex issues such as transgender inclusivity, anti-racism, and leading choirs on Zoom during a global pandemic. One through-line might be drawn from these discourses: singing fosters connection between people (Pearce et al., 2015). Group singing has been shown to impact humans in many positive ways, including in improving physical health (e.g., Skingley & Bungay, 2010; Stacy et al., 2002), mental health (Bungay et al., 2010; Clift & Morrison, 2011; Lob et al., 2010), mood (Unwin et al., 2002), and connectedness (Higgins, 2007; Sun & Buys, 2013). While scholars have explored community singing in Australia (Sun & Buys, 2013), China (Wei, 2013), and the United Kingdom (Russell, 2008), less research has been done in the United States (Bush & Krikun, 2013; Foy, 1990; Morgan-Ellis, 2018). American community singing events have taken place for many centuries, including singing in Indigenous communities (e.g., O’Grady, 1991) and singing in schools in the colonial period (Britton, 1989). Hair (1999) notes that community singing events have drawn from a wide array of repertoire.
The choral community in the United States seems to have an interest in community singing (e.g., Page, 2014). In recent years, Chorus America, a professional organization for choral groups and directors, has begun training musicians to hold community singing events (Menehan, 2014). Alice Parker, a member of the Chorus America board, founder of Melodious Accord, and an icon in American vocal music, believes deeply in the possibility of accord rather than discord in the lives of people who sing together (e.g., Palkki, 2022; Parker, 1998).
While adults often sing in choirs outside school settings (Bell, 2008), less formal forms of group community singing also exist: In the United States, as throughout the rest of the world, there are a multitude of music-dance activities that do not involve formal presentations, the star system, or recording and concert ticket sales. These other activities are more about the doing and social interaction than about creating an artistic product or commodity. (Turino, 2008, p. 25, emphasis in original)
I define the term “community singing” as a form of participatory music making: Briefly defined, participatory performance is a special type of artistic practice in which there are no artist-audience distinctions, only participants and potential participants performing different roles, and the primary goal is to involve the maximum number of people in some performance role. Presentational performance, in contrast, refers to situations where one group of people, the artists, prepare and provide music for another group, the audience, who do not participate in making the music or dancing. (Turino, 2008, p. 26, emphasis in original)
Several scholars have noted the benefits of participatory music traditions within music education (Thibeault, 2015), including as a tool for differentiating instruction (Bernard & Cayari, 2020). Regelski (2014) argues that participatory traditions can be taught in undergraduate methods courses for preservice teachers.
Despite the positive benefits associated with singing, many adults have an innate belief that they cannot sing (e.g., Whidden, 2008)—sometimes because of negative experiences with music educators (Abril, 2007). Furthermore, the focus on public performance in choral singing can create a level of intensity that is off-putting for some amateur musicians. This construct is illuminated by the participants in Lee et al.’s (2016) study who express pleasure about singing in an environment with “little pressure” (p. 197). This dichotomy between the presentational and “high pressure” nature of traditional choral singing and participatory (“little pressure”) aspects of community singing serves as a prism through which I explore the data collected in this study. The purpose of the study is to explore the community singing culture of this city, driven by the following research questions:
Method
Design
To explore the community singing culture of Middletown (pseudonym), I undertook an ethnographic case study in which I served as a participant observer (Johnson et al., 2006). In this capacity, I observed singing activities and experienced the events alongside the participants (Bannister, 1992; Saldaña, 2011). This is an instrumental case study because it explores one phenomenon (Stake, 2005) within a bounded system (Creswell, 2007)—the community singing events in one city. An ethnographic case study is defined as “prolonged observations over time in a natural setting within a bounded system” (Angers & Machtmes, 2005, p. 777).
Researcher’s lens
I approach this work as an admittedly uptight, classically trained choral conductor-teacher. I taught secondary choral music in American schools for 6 years during which time I taught “traditional” choral music via Western European musical notation. When I learned about the community singing culture of the city in which I lived, it struck me as fascinating and entirely different from the choral tradition in which I was trained. An excerpt from my fieldnotes illuminates this: “Perhaps all of the years of stressing over technically flawless choral performances has left me a little burned out. Maybe singing complicated choral music is something that gives me joy and stress in equal measure.” This dichotomy between formal choral performance and informal community singing remained in the background as I proceeded with data collection, analysis, and writing.
Data collection and analysis
This study was given exempt status by the Institutional Review Board at the university at which I attended graduate school. All participants received and signed informed consent forms. Over the course of a year, I attended several of the community singing events held at the Unitarian Universalist church near the campus where I attended graduate school and participated in the weekend-long Solstice Singing Festival in January 2015. I also audio-recorded the November 2014 community sing and listened to it as I worked on this manuscript. Using the model described by Emerson et al. (2011) and Maharaj (2016), I created ethnographic fieldnotes from my jottings after each singing event. The process of creating fieldnotes was a chance to transform random scribblings into thick descriptions (Geertz, 1973) that helped clarify insights about participants and/or the field site and illuminated aspects of reflexivity. After several months of visiting, I completed two semi-structured interviews with the song-leader for these singing events and a focus group with several participants of the monthly sing (Morgan, 1997).
I coded data using a combination of axial and in vivo coding (Saldaña, 2013). Triangulation of data was attained through multiple observations, interviews, and one focus group. A peer with extensive qualitative research experience checked my coding scheme (Lincoln & Guba, 1985) and suggested two themes under Research Question 3 that I had not identified. Trustworthiness was buoyed through this peer checking process and by allowing participants to member-check their transcript segments (Patton, 1990); one participant made several minor grammatical corrections. I maintained the anonymity of the participants by using pseudonyms for all persons, places, and events.
Participants
Martha, the song-leader and founder of the monthly community sing in Middletown, might be described as a force of nature. She earned an undergraduate degree in economics, managed businesses, drove 53,000 miles throughout the Unites States, earned an MBA, and then sought licensure to teach high school economics. She “got kicked out of the band in eighth grade,” after which she was given a banjo by a man in her hometown and told, “if you learn these songs by Christmas, the banjo’s yours.” Martha also sang in a children’s choir at a local church.
Megan grew up playing French horn, played in the collegiate symphony band, and sang informally throughout her life. After experiencing vocal damage, she became involved in African drumming and circle singing as espoused by Bobby McFerrin and leads drumming events throughout her state.
Carolyn began taking piano lessons in third grade but later found recitals and memorization stressful. She became interested in singing when her children were taking voice lessons.
Fred said, “I basically have no musical background” and he never sang in a choir. A jazz lover, he plays in a local dulcimer club and had been attending Folk Music Alley (a local folk music group described below) events for 18 years at the time of our focus group.
Brenda is a nurse who grew up singing and playing the piano (she took lessons from a “grumpy” nun). After being told by a nun in her Catholic school “don’t sing, just move your mouth” and being shamed about her singing by a college roommate, she found the Solstice Singing Festival and Folk Music Alley events and has a deep love for community singing.
Theoretical lenses
I draw on Turino’s (2008) work on participatory versus presentational music making as a theoretical lens through which I analyzed data. Foreshadowing themes from Lee et al.’s (2016) study, Turino (2008) writes, “the pressures of presentational performance, however, limit the number of people who go on to become musical specialists in societies where presentational music is the norm” (p. 46). The result of these performance pressures is sometimes that individuals stop singing altogether. To explore this notion, I draw on work about adults who identify as “non-singers”—often because of past experiences in school music (Abril, 2007; Bowman, 2012; Hogle, 2021; Ruddock & Leong, 2005; Whidden, 2008)—and subscribe to the larger North American cultural conception about singing being reserved for those labeled as “talented” (e.g., Wayman, 2004). In a study about singing and social anxiety, Abril (2007) notes that “all participants traced the roots of their anxiety to negative experiences in a school music program” (p. 1). I wondered how the past singing experiences of the participants in the current study may have played a role in their community singing participation.
Limitations
Data from this study were collected in one community that lacks diversity in several ways. According to the U.S. Census Bureau (n.d.), the Middletown metropolitan area is approximately 70% White, and the participants in the community singing events, and in this study, reflect this racially homogeneous population. As is common in qualitative inquiry, this study involves a small number of participants, all of whom volunteered to participate. Therefore, its findings are not generalizable, but may provide insights for the choral and music education communities. As the sole data collection and analysis agent, my biases necessarily influenced this research process.
Findings
Research Question 1: What are the factors that inspire participation in community singing events in this city?
Two main themes arose during data analysis: (1) folk music 1 culture, and (2) inclusivity and participation. Subthemes under the second theme include (a) lyric sheets instead of sheet music, and (b) the power of singing with others.
Folk music culture
The thriving folk music culture of Middletown served as a foundation for the community singing events in the area. The community sing song-leader, Martha, succinctly noted, “This, per capita, is one of the strongest folk communities in the country” and that “the inspiration, of course, is Pete Seeger.
2
He’s a master at singing and leading and telling you the words ahead at the same time.” As we chatted on the patio of a local burger joint, Martha took out paper and a pencil and diagrammed the folk music ecosystem of Middletown, which includes the largest mail order acoustic instrument company in the United States, a National Public Radio station that promotes folk music, local establishments that host folk open mic nights, a community ukulele group, an annual folk festival, and a group that hosts, as Martha notes, an “old time music jam every Wednesday [for the past] thirty. five. years.” In addition, there is an organization called Folk Music Alley in the city. Their website reads, We like to joke that the [Folk Music Alley] is more a “state of mind” than it is a “place.” However, The [Alley] is best described as an organization of volunteers that has presented concerts and dances in a variety of [Middletown] area venues since our inception in 1975.
Martha explains, “Folk Music Alley has been going for thirty years—has $50,000 in the bank: unheard of for a folk group.”
This thriving folk music scene provides the foundation upon which the community singing culture resides. Martha also notes that the “Solstice Singing Festival . . . is produced by the Folk Music Alley” and that The community sing monthly was sort of an offshoot of the festival, ’cause [after] the festival, people were saying, “we’re only going to do this once a year? Why can’t we do this every week?” And I went, “Oh, nah, we’re not doing this every week, but, every month.”
At the monthly community singing events, participants seem to hunger for folk music and what it might mean for society more broadly. As Martha says, “this is folk music . . . people—deep down inside—given the choice, they’d make the world a better place.” Furthermore, “folk music is political—music of the people—so you’re bound to get some political songs when you do a big sing-a-long.” The repertoire and the drive to continue community singing events between the annual Solstice Singing Festivals may derive from their inclusive nature.
Inclusivity and participation
Lyric sheets instead of sheet music
During data analysis, the theme that arose repeatedly was the participants’ perceptions of inclusivity and participation. Part of this feeling may derive from the absence of Western musical notation. The songbook used for the community singing events is Rise Up Singing (Blood & Patterson, 2005) which contains the lyrics to 1,200 songs—without any Western musical notation. As Martha notes while reflecting on her middle school choral experience, “You know, this whole choir thing, you want to get kids to love to sing? You want to intimidate the hell out of them, give ’em [sheet] music.” This topic came up in the focus group discussion as well; Carolyn says, I think getting away from printed music helps the singers relax. Don’t tell then they have to be soprano or tenor . . . just let them sing whatever part sounds good to them. Of course, there are times when printed music is needed to prepare for a performance. But to let them play with music is a great way to get kids to enjoy singing.
This notion of enjoying singing is something that came up several times from participants.
The power of singing with others
Participants described the ease and power of singing together in the supportive, low-pressure environment of the community singing events. Carolyn describes how singing differs from instrumental music: “Singing comes from my heart. To play an instrument is a two-step process. You have to show your hands how to do something. But singing just comes out. And that’s what I do!” For some focus group participants, singing “from the heart” caused them to get emotional while talking about what this experience means to them, as encapsulated by Brenda: The Solstice Singing festival, that first festival—I get tears in my eyes when I think about it. First, it was a month before the [Iraq] war started. And they came out and they sang, to open, “How Can I Keep from Singing?” [touches heart] And, we closed—and, you know, we sang these songs—and you just had a feeling that song we were singing “Singing for our Lives”—that’s what you were doing. Well, after it closed someone in the audience [of participants], maybe it was Anne—started to sing “How Can I Keep from Singing?” and when that was over someone else started “We Shall Overcome.” [choked up] And we probably sang it for ten minutes. And, you know, the second year Martha started this community sing, and I’ve been coming ever since. And, you know, I love it. I don’t think I have a good voice, but it doesn’t make any difference. It just fills you up.
The freedom and lack of formal rehearsal norms arose in the focus group discussion. Carolyn notes, “Along with there being no stress, coming to community sing is relaxing. You can come into a situation like this after you’ve had the worst day in the world, and you leave smiling and relaxed,” to which Brenda responds, “absolutely, yes. It lifts you up and you—and I always sleep better the night after this. [all laugh] I do! I’m just so at peace.”
Research Question 2: What are the cultural elements of the monthly community singing events in this city?
In this study, I draw on the work by Yosso and García (2007), who define culture as “behaviors and values that are learned, shared, and exhibited by a group of people. Culture is also evidenced in material and nonmaterial productions of a people” (p. 153). In the context of the community singing events of Middletown, cultural values and norms are reinscribed through repeated actions by the participants. Pursuant to this research question, two main themes emerged: (1) the role of the song-leader, and (2) inclusivity and participation.
The role of the song-leader
Deeply involved with Folk Music Alley and the annual Solstice Singing Festival, Martha leads the monthly community singing events. With ease and a healthy dose of humor, she inspires confidence in the singers, as evidenced in this comment from Brenda: “She really makes you believe you can sing—seriously. And she seems to value every person in that room.” Similarly, Megan notes, “She doesn’t dictate anything.” As Martha says, On the fly, you never know what the person’s going to be asking you to sing next. Sometimes if we’ve played three slow songs, I’ll grab the banjo and figure out what key I’m in and I’ll just say, “let’s turn to page 93 and sing ‘I’ll Fly Away’.” So, I’ve got about five or ten [songs] in my back pocket that can switch the mood or else we’re going to go down this train of slow dirges, which makes it really hard to come back—if you ever can come back—so I just decide to come back pretty quickly.
She notes that participants “know it’s going to be fun. They know it’s going to be organized. They know that they can name a song if they really want to, or not.” In my fieldnotes, I remarked on Martha’s ability to read the room. After singing a few rounds a cappella, she could feel that the group needed something familiar, up-tempo, and with the banjo. She announced “I’ll Fly Away” without asking for a suggestion and the room lit up. This is a song they do nearly every month, I reckon. A classic folk tune. Martha could lead this song in her sleep. This was a necessary respite for the group—and she knew it.
There seems to be some cognitive dissonance here in that Martha perceives her role as that of a facilitator of musical experiences via the songs, but participants named her as a key element that made these events appealing to them. Inherent in the ethos of these singing events is a feeling that everyone is welcome without exception.
Inclusivity and participation
When participants “know it’s going to be fun,” they may be freer to relax and participate without inhibition (Lee et al., 2016). Although she and the other band members are a major part of these community singing events, Martha notes that it is not about her or any of the other people involved—it is about the music: The songs are the star and it’s not Martha, and it’s not Samuel and Mary, it’s not the cellist, it’s not anybody else—the songs will do the work for you. And it’s powerful. And how about if you’re a harmony singer and nobody’s telling you what to sing harmony-wise and then all of a sudden, these people are singing the melody and you can sing anything you want.
The impact that these songs have on the participants was difficult to comprehend sometimes, as noted in this fieldnote segment: There was one woman sitting across the room from me with short hair and a black sweater. She was a thin woman—maybe 58 or 64 years old. She was very much in tune with the music. She sat with her eyes closed and the book hugged close to her body. She would rock back and forth and hardly ever look at the book. What was she thinking? What does she get from this experience? It seems that it is deeply meaningful, but in what way? The words? The instruments? The other singers?
The freedom that comes with the lack of direction and formal structure is something that, as an uptight choral conductor-teacher, continually surprised me.
Research Question 3: How does participatory singing differ from presentational singing, and what might choral conductor-teachers learn from participatory traditions?
When I first started attending these community singing events, it was difficult for me to let go and to be part of the informal, freewheeling ethos. When I explored Research Question 3, four main themes arose: (1) inclusivity and participation, (2) “wounding stories,” (3) playfulness and imperfection, and (4) the individual versus the collective.
Inclusivity and participation
There seems to be a stark dichotomy between the intense joy that I perceived at these community singing events and the stories that several focus group participants described about their experiences in school music. The theme of joy continually came up during data analysis. As Brenda says,: My husband and I come all the time. And I have found that this is one of the most wonderful experiences. I mean, I see these people as we’re singing. I look around and I think, you know, I love these people. It’s just—it warms your heart. So—I like to sing.
This joy is surprising because of some of the participants who have had difficult experiences with (choral) music teachers in the past.
“Wounding stories”
Throughout my life, I have heard many stories from people who were told that they were not musical or could not sing. Megan describes these as “wounding stories”: I feel so lucky for growing up in a musical family and the music life that I’ve had, and it’s just so sad to witness some of these wounding stories—to hear folks say “my teacher told me to be quiet” or, “you don’t have any talent”—UGH! I hate hearing about those kind of teachers, you know? They need some different kind of training or something!
Similarly, Carolyn describes her husband’s experience: When we first got married, my husband, oh my gosh! We would be singing in the car and his voice was terrible. He could not match any tones. But I wouldn’t say anything because he had been told that he couldn’t sing his whole life. For Christmas one year, I gave him the gift of voice lessons. He now sings in church choir and has even sung some solos in church. [Megan, interjecting: His ears got trained?] Yes! He still has some troubles, but he has a beautiful voice. It just makes me cry when I hear him sing, because he lived so many years thinking his voice was terrible and he wouldn’t even open his mouth.
Carolyn described this as a “success story.” There are many people, however, for whom being told not to sing can have a deep and abiding influence.
As Megan noted, participants expressed a great deal of frustration about music teachers who did not support all students, regardless of their apparent talent. As a former public school music educator, it was difficult for me to come to terms with this phenomenon, as described in the following story from Carolyn from her Catholic school experience: All the girls had to be in the choir, so I was in the choir and we sang two masses every Sunday . . . And the nun said I was a second soprano, which I have no idea if I was or not, but I went faithfully every Sunday and I kind of liked it. I was never asked to solo, but in spring we had our spring recital and at the very first recital she said to me, “don’t sing, just move your mouth.” So, I began to believe I didn’t have a singing voice.
These “wounding stories” seem all too common (Hogle, 2021; Ruddock, 2010). But the participatory community singing events in Middletown seemed to provide healing for some people who were mislabeled as “non-musical” or “non-singers” in the past. In zooming out, the participants in this study had several wonderful suggestions about how choral music might improve in learning from their experiences.
Playfulness and imperfection
One theme that arose was the idea of playfulness—something that can be lost in the intensity of a choral rehearsal. Megan describes being in band in fifth grade: It’s just not the same as a group of people sitting around a fire or a family room, singing, making sounds, and having fun together. Maybe if the formal choirs incorporated that into it—they might say “we’re going to have a simple circle song and just jam for a bit, and let’s co-create something, invent your own harmonies, and then we’re going to sing an Eric Whitacre piece and work a little bit to enjoy all of his crazy and wonderful harmonies. . . .” I think there’s just a need for—maybe I would just invite those “choir geeks” to be more playful and combine the fun with the formal: a little stress, but with some more fun.
Part of this fun seemed to be the lack of striving for perfection, or for a “correct” sound, or toward a performance. But this idea very much bothered me at the time, as illuminated in the following fieldnote: “There was one strident soprano singing quite loudly directly in front of me. I look around the section of singers nearest me to see if anyone else is perturbed by her loud vocalism. Nobody seems phased except me.”
Individual vs. collective
Another theme that arose during data collection refers to the idea of the individual versus the collective and how that differs in a community sing setting. Much has been written about the idea of choir as a “team” and the importance of interpersonal work so that singers feel safe around one another (e.g., Küçük & Halvaşi, 2019). Participants note that attendees of the singing events often do not know each other well or interact outside community singing, but still describe them as “friends.” Fred notes, “there’s all these people that come and 99% of them I don’t know their names, but we say hi, and we sing together. [Megan: and then you’re friends.] Yeah! We’re friends, even though we don’t know each other’s names.” Carolyn brings this back to the word “community”: When we come here, we know we’re all here for the same purpose. That’s a common bond. It doesn’t matter who you’re sitting next to, you talk to them before the singing starts—we’re all friends. You know, they call it “community singing” because it’s people from all over the community. But it’s also a community unto itself as well. [Brenda: very much so.]
The community that I found at these participatory singing events surprised me and has re-shaped the way that I think about group singing.
Discussion and suggestions for practice
Folk music/culture
The purpose of this research was to explore the phenomenon of monthly community singing events in one Midwestern U.S. community and to extrapolate what choral educators might learn from these data. The repertoire performed at Middletown community singing events arose as an important part of this music culture. The notion of folk music being “political” and “music of the people” as described by Martha was important. There is a parallel here to a recent trend in American choral music to program music that is explicitly about social justice topics (e.g., Bussewitz-Quarm, 2018) and to face issues of equity and justice more directly. 3
In addition to having a message, the songs sung at community singing events are not musically complex. Turino (2008) notes, “With the exception of Baez, Peter, Paul, and Mary, and a few others, the aesthetics of the ‘folk revival’ actually celebrated everyman voices and instrumental abilities; many of the songs were easy to learn and play” (p. 157). The songs that we sang at these events were, indeed, easy to sing and harmonize with (e.g., limited ranges, harmonically simple). Staples like “Grandfather’s Clock” and “I’ll Fly Away” seemed to be crowd favorites. The relative simplicity of the songs seemed to foster maximum participation and facilitated an environment in which participants felt comfortable.
The Solstice Singing Festival and monthly community singing events occur in a city that supports a thriving folk music scene. The singing festival and community sing events draw participants from around the state and region, with some singers commuting for over an hour to attend the monthly sings at the Unitarian Church. This culture of music “of the people” espouses the ethos that music making is for everyone—and that the process of making music with others requires an inclusive environment.
Inclusivity and participation
The through-line in addressing all three of the research questions was that of inclusivity and participation—the notion that participants in community singing events felt included and safe in these spaces. Much has been written about “safe space” and “safe environment,” as alluded to in the following quote from Martha: “the word safe environment is overused. But [the participants] know it’s going to be a positive experience, so they don’t have to hedge their emotional bet at all.” Singing is a vulnerable act that involves producing sound from within one’s body, so a safe environment is imperative for healthy singing (e.g., Hogle, 2021; Palkki, 2022; Palkki & Caldwell, 2018).
The joy of singing with others arose time and again during data analysis. Megan’s notion that “I don’t think I have a good voice, but it doesn’t make any difference” encapsulates a notion that within these community singing spaces, it is not about talent or aesthetic beauty—it is about the experience, the doing. As noted by Turino (2008), “In participatory music making one’s primary attention is on the activity, on the doing, and on the other participants, rather than on an end product that results from the activity” (p. 28, emphasis in original). This raises the question about whether the music education enterprise should focus on process or product (Stakelum, 2008). Music educators can create spaces in which the doing is as important—or even more important—than the product that often comes in the form of a public performance. Otherwise, such performances—alongside negative past experiences in music education—may cause anxiety and stress in some participants.
“Wounding stories”
One of the most surprising themes that arose was that of “wounding stories” as described by Megan, paralleling research findings from Abril (2007), Bowman (2012), and Whidden (2008). Hogle (2021) notes, A particular wounding evaluation of one’s vocal performance, by self or others, resulted in perceived lack of singing agency for each participant in this study. Perceived emotional wounding produced shame-filled feelings of being flawed, deficient, or disabled as one who cannot sing. (p. 183)
The term “wounding” seems apropos as it references hurt feelings and resentment, which can prohibit future participation in singing activities (Ruddock & Leong, 2005; Turino, 2008; Whidden, 2008). We as music educators can and should do better. 4 As Ruddock (2010) notes, “We may recognise how the notion of singing as performance can override potential acts of singing as communicative action and lead many individuals to perceive themselves as non-singers” (p. 12). The philosophy of many music educators includes a desire to inspire a love of lifelong music making, but for these philosophies to become a reality, music educators can avoid labeling students as “non-singers” or “non-musical” (deficit perspective) and rather celebrate the musical and vocal skills that students bring to the classroom (asset-based perspective). Choral educators can unlearn some of the constraints that are part of this artform (Palkki, 2022). The fact that several participants in the study returned to singing at all can be seen as a testament to the rehabilitative qualities of participatory singing traditions that could enrich school music programs (Thibeault, 2015).
Unlearning choral strictures
As I participated in these monthly community singing events, I wondered whether I was a teacher who inflicted wounds as described above. Choral conductor-teachers too often are taught to control singers (O’Toole, 1997, 2005), as illustrated in the following fieldnote segment: “Immediately I want to fix—to encourage blend and balance—to subjugate voices to the collective.” But these community sings are the antithesis of that. I wrote in my jottings, “why is it my initial instinct to control?” This notion echoes scholarship from O’Toole (2005) who writes, “Every detail of a choral rehearsal suggests discipline, from the way music is taught and discussed, to the learned and highly refined gestures of the conductor” (p. 12). In an earlier publication, O’Toole (1997) writes, Within choral music . . . there is a . . . ranking of knowledge and skills that sorts people into power-laden categories such as director and choir member . . . . Consequently . . . “legitimate” skills and knowledge are then valued and promoted over other types of skills and knowledge such as social skills or the love of singing. (p. 132)
This inspires the following question: How can singers feel comfortable and free while also being controlled and disciplined (Hess, 2012)?
How might the choral rehearsal be reimagined to incorporate elements of play and experimentation rather than control and a striving toward choral “perfection”? One option that choral conductor-teachers might explore is circle singing, as pioneered by Bobby McFerrin (Paparo, 2016). This form of improvisatory music making involves layered ostinatos over which individual singers improvise. These ostinato patterns initially can be built by the conductor-teacher, who later can hand over control of the process to the singers. In addition, choral conductor-teachers can brainstorm ways of co-creating the choral experience with the singers. As an example, the creation of a social contract can be a powerful way of establishing community norms within a choir. 5 Teachers also can invite students into the repertoire selection (e.g., Rotjan, 2021) and rehearsal planning processes. Choral conductor-teachers also might consider how to create more opportunities that are participatory rather than presentational. Teachers might consider doing fewer public performances and instead creating opportunities for play and experimentation within the ensemble without a public audience. Perhaps the less hierarchical choral rehearsals seem, the more agency the singers will feel.
Suggestions for future research
Informal community singing in the United States is an area that has yet to receive much attention in music education research. Future studies might include large-scale surveys exploring community singing groups in the United States. More ethnographic research into communities like Middletown can help illuminate the differences between participatory and presentational singing cultures. I posit that Turino’s (2008) work provides an excellent framework upon which such inquiry can be based. Furthermore, more case studies of individual singers and their experiences with “wounding” stories (Bowman, 2012; Hogle, 2021) might illuminate pitfalls that music educators can avoid in the future to promote a lifelong love of music. Case studies of choral teachers who incorporate participatory traditions could provide a blueprint for more educators trained in a traditional/hierarchical method of teaching. Further explorations of persons who are involved in both presentational and participatory forms of singing—especially drawing upon an intersectional approach with diverse participants—could also provide interesting insights into the differences in more formal versus less formal singing settings.
Conclusion
Informal community singing events have the power to inspire a love of music, singing, and connection. As American music education grapples to adapt and grow beyond the European conservatory tradition (Kratus, 2007), perhaps participatory group singing could provide a pathway for singers and potential singers who would not feel comfortable in a formal choral setting. The process of singing with others can be powerful—and not only for those “talented” singers who join community, semi-professional, professional, or educational choruses. The participatory nature of Middletown community singing certainly provides a model for facilitating such events.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
