Field Notes part 4

Day of First Performance
-It's 10:00am, Michelle called and left message she would be at my dorm to pick me up in 25 minutes
-I wait on Thayer, big van pulls over, I sit in front seat, 4 or 5 elderly people in back seats
-Michelle tells me she and everyone was looking for me at Waterfire, I am flattered and appologize for missing her performance, I had to leave early
-get out of van, man who was in back shakes my hand and I say I'm Julie and he says he is Bashey and I say "nice to meet you." he asks if I can pronounce it back. I say "Bashey?" and he says yes and laughs and says "simple, right?" and spells it for me. I ask him if people mess his name up often and he says yes, in this country. I ask him where he is from and he tells me Nigeria, and he moved here 8 years ago.
-We arrive at church, I go downstairs to put on robe and wait for instructions, several come in and shake my hand and ask how I am, without asking who I am
-Two women in bathroom talking about something and laughing, I can't really hear what
-finally choir files in, slowly and one by one, to downstairs, I hear Michelle and two other women talking about death of someone, I cannot figure out who it is, discussion of collecting money to buy plant for family member of person who died
-lots of disorientation and chattering in general, finally we file upstairs where the service is beginning, people filing in and chatting
-woman from my choir holds up drapes and tells someone that she and others cleaned the windows all yesterday, and that these drapes would be blessed and put up on the windows (held up drapes)
-choir goes into hall to pray, we all hold hands, Nadine prays and asks God to bless the choir, the church, the performers, and thanks God for bringing me to the choir and allowing "Julie" to sing with everyone. At this point everyone says "yes" and "amen." I can't help but smile I am so flattered, but then I immediately feel guilty for some reason, like I don't deserve that since I'm just here doing fieldwork, really. Also, I feel guilty knowing I won't really be able to participate in the choir after this fieldwork project is done, as it has been a big time commitment and I have other interests I'd like to pursue
-I also realize that I am relieved not to say a prayer out loud not just because I'm not a Christian, because I could certainly think of a prayer to say that wasn't exclusively Jesus-related. I realize it is because in every situation of prayer I have been in, prayer has been a silent and deeply personal thing, with no music or group connection except that all share the silence together. I have never said a prayer in front of others. Interesting difference. I wonder what it feels like to share something I consider so personal with a group. Maybe I should try it one of these times, if I get the guts.
-we awkwardly shuffle in, people moving around, I'm not really sure where to go. but then music starts playing of song I recognize, and Michelle signals to me to get in line. We walk down the church aisle singing "Oh Come Let Us Adore Him" doing a step-right, together, step-left, together movement. We then take a seat in the first rows.
-whole church begins singing a prayer that sounds familiar to me, soemthing like "let the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptible in thy sight," etc. This is sung to a tune I don't recognize, but I mouth the words. I realize I know them from a Sublime song, "Rivers of Babylon."

-I left my paper and pencil for notes downstairs, and realize I wouldn't be able to write while sitting in the first two rows of the choir anyway. Order of events is again blurred and subjective, as is what I specifically remember. I had a hard time paying attention to much of the speach involved in the service perhaps because I got very little sleep the night before.

-man spoke at front, talked about how the drapes were blessed, talked about various things that needed money, etc., general church matters and concerns, again I regret not giving my full attention
-then Michelle signals for us to stand up, and we walk to front stage. We sing "Praise Him" in front of everyone. I am familiar and comfortable with the song, or so I thought. The meter of the song initially confused me, but once I got used to it in practice I felt it in a 9/8 meter. We began side stepping back and forth in performance, which was somewhat awkward feeling because we would step right on beat one, together on beat four, left on beat 6, and back together on beat 1 of the next measure, so it created a sort of hemiola between our foot movement and the meter of the song. I got the rhythm OK, but then Michelle, who was standing in front and leading us, began clapping on beats 2 and 3, 5 and 6, and 8 and 9. This clapping pattern makes perfect rhythmic sense, at least in my standards, for a 9/8 meter or any triple meter. But the movement of our feet was to a completely different meter or metrical feel than our hands. I have always thought that my strong point in music is rhythm, but I was embarraced to find that I was thrown off. I kept clapping on the wrong beats, and when I thought about it and regained a sense of the rhythm, I found myself swaying at the wrong times. It was certainly humbling, as everyone else in the choir, some of whom claim not to read music, expressed no obvious problems with these complex rhythms. This reminded me of a book I read for another class, called "The Games Black Girls Play" by Kyra Gaunt, which discusses the common stereotype that African Americans "have rhythm." Gaunt suggests that hand games and double dutch played by young black girls allows them to subconsciously develop a sense of flexible rhythm and an ability to express complex rhythms with different parts of their bodies. I wonder if anyone in the choir played such games as children. I should find that out.
-We sit down, pastor comes out. different man from last time. he stands on very high podium, have to strain neck back at this angle to see, i find myself looking down out of exhaustion.
-various songs are sang in hymnal from last time, and some that are memorized, at which points I sit with mouth closed and try to be respectful.
-pastor gives speech, which again, i failed to pay close attention. the general gist i got was that Jesus was a friend, to all, no matter what earthly friends have diserted us, and no matter how much we can't seem to get out of a situation.
-As the speech went on, various people chimed in with words of approval. one I had not noticed before was "well." I heard it first said by Michelle. She said "Well" so loud in the middle of the pastor's speech I was uncomfortable, I thought she was interrupting him to say something. And she said it with a sort of scooping inflection and it sounded almost like a question. but it stopped there. several others also said "well" and nothing else at various times with this same inflection
-One man particularly half shouts and half sings words of approval. At one point, he full out sings a succession of "wells." (in 3/4 time, all quarter notes except the last as half note, well (tonic), well (scooped into major third), well (forth), well (fifth), well (forth), well (third), weeeelllll (tonic)) at this point, half the congregation looks over in his direction and some giggle, myself included.
-the pastor begins half singing and half saying the ends of his speech, when he gets to the passionate parts about the loyalty of Jesus, and he keeps mentioning "a river that runs through His church," and all the wonderful properties of this river. He starts on a stable pitch, and then his voice sort of quavers, like a vibrato within speech, and then he just speaks. People in the audience are more excited and show this with their words of approval. The pastor speaks/sings louder and a bit faster.
-When he is finished, Michelle again signals for us to stand, this time where we are in our benches. This time we sing a song I call "Get Ready." Nadine, playing piano, sings a solo, and we all chime in in a sort of call-and-response sort of way, getting ready for His miracle. I hear a tamborine behind me, not always on beat. At the end of the song I turn around and am delighted to see it is held by a young boy in a choir robe, who is thrilled to be participating.
-Throughout the song, people begin getting up to leave, giving their hugs and kisses goodbye, etc. Michelle is directing us, and gives us a sort of "tag" ending (that's the jazz term for it at least) in which we repeat the last line however many times indicated. However, Michelle keeps signaling to us to do it again at the last second before saying the very last conclusive lines, and all are a bit confused and the song sort of crumbles slightly as some keep repeating while others move on.
-I start to leave, give some hugs and thank you's to various people. I wait downstairs as Michelle instructs me to, as she insisted again on driving me home. I do, put back my robe, and eventually wander back upstairs. Michelle assures me that she didn't forget about me, she is coming. I tell her I didn't think she did
-A spiffily-dressed mid-thirtiesish man who I recognized from various excited female greetings before the service walks outside, where I wait with the others who are getting a ride in the van. He shakes my hand and introduces himself, and welcomes me to the choir. He asks if I am from Brown and I explain yes, I am a music student and I am doing a project on the church's music. He says "oh" and I might have imagined it but I sense a slight twinge of disappointment on his face. I feel uncomfortable with the thought that most people probably think I am a Christian singing here because I love Gospel Music (which I do, but not for specifically religious reasons exactly), but I'm glad I made myself clear to this man and I think I should do this more often.
-we get in the van with the same crew as last time, with the addition of a man who sits in the front. He asks me what my name is and I tell him, and he says I was great and he's glad I sang with the choir. A woman next to me tells me she used to sing in the choir too, but she hurt her foot and had to stay home for a while, and now she needs to take the van to get back and forth from the church. I suggest that she will sing in the choir agian when she is healed, and she agrees.
-Michelle get's into the driver's seat. Someone asks, "George," (to the man in the front seat) "I thought you were driving," and he responds with something like, "no, Michelle is driving. I have to make sure she do alright," at which he laughs and Michelle gives an affectionate scowl, and I laugh as well.
-Michelle begins driving, and we get somewhere into Brown's campus. She asks if I know where we are, and I say "oh!' and then realize I have no idea and embarracingly say "no." and excuse myself for not knowing my way around yet. Michelle starts driving around blocks and getting stopped by one-way signs. George starts instructing her, and she says "OK, George," as in "that's enough, I got it." I can relate, I hate when people back-seat drive.
-She pulls over and says "OK here's your stop!" I thank her a lot, tell her I will see her in two weeks (will be gone next weekend), tell everyone it was great to see them, and leave.

Notes about music: today, with acception of Nadine's solo song on which she played piano, a man I did not recognize accompanied on piano. The keyboard/drummer from last time was playing percussion in a slow R&B sort of way that made me think maybe the emotional themes of much R&B music comes from the highly religious emotion of Gospel Music, or vice versa. Also, when we sang an upbeat song, the pianist would often role down the piano in what I relate to a "Jerry Lee Lewis style" (although I don't assume he invented the piano role, i just don't know how else to describe it so I remember what I meant later). This was interesting to me because I always associated such a musical gesture with the stereotype of sex-crazed rock and roll.

the hand signal of holding up a closed fist is used by anyone who is directing and is understood to mean that this is the last time through a tag or a verse. This is important, as much of the performance of our Gospel Music is based on the repetition of phrases or verses, and this is often an improvised structure that changes in every performance and practice. I also noticed that once in a while, the man sitting next to me in the choir would quietly chime in with little improvised solo lines. His voice was beautiful and gave me chills, and reminded me of all the old rusty recordings of blues that I've always been drawn to. I wish I told him that but I felt shy.