Have you ever wondered how many people sing Sacred Harp? Even though I have no idea what the exact number is, I am amazed by how many people around the world share the experience of this music. Each of these singers has his or her own unique story—every one has followed a different road toward Sacred Harp, arriving at the tradition from a different background and viewpoint.

Kama Dembińska and Justyna Orlikowska lead at the Western Massachusetts Sacred Harp Convention, one of many stops on a month-long trip to Sacred Harp singings across two continents and six U.S. states. Photograph by Kelly Taylor.

We may come from different directions, but we are fortunate that our paths cross so often as we gather to sing. Sometimes we travel in the same direction—sometimes we head different ways. There are wide roads with many, busy lanes, and small, side roads. But every time that we cross paths, we make time to stop, rest, and sing. Sacred Harp travelers always sing! I love how contagious it is! And then when the singing is over, again we go our different ways …

This is a story about a few stops and crossings—recollections of a road followed by two Polish singers for whom Sacred Harp has become an important component of their lives. Our individual roads had crossed so many times that one day we decided to travel together on a thirty-day journey across two continents, meeting people in the Sacred Harp tradition everywhere we went. If you saw my friend Kama Dembińska and me at a singing this March, then you crossed paths with us during one of the stops on our big journey. We were so happy to meet all of you! If I haven’t met you yet, I take comfort knowing that there will be still many beautiful stories from other roads.

It is not easy to write about what we experienced during our month-long journey—there are just too many important memories. The first thing I wrote after I came back home was a short post on Facebook summing up our journey as a travel itinerary:

27.02.2013—Warszawa, PL > Cork, IRL > Shushan, NY > Bennington, VT > Northampton, MA > Old Chatham, NY > Amherst, MA > New York, NY > Englewood, NJ > Philadelphia, PA > Easton, PA > Bethlehem, PA > Carrollton, GA > Atlanta, GA > Warszawa, PL—27.03.2013 … so many great places and beautiful people to sing with! Thank you all for your wonderful care, moving moments, and fun! And for everything else!

That was all I could write immediately after I returned. I felt overwhelmed after such a crazy and unforgettable experience. Two countries and six U.S. states, places full of singing, laughing, love, friendship, beauty, power, lessons, experience, fulfillment, charm… And it wouldn’t have meant anywhere near as much without the wonderful, kind, and generous people who cared about us and helped in many ways before and during the trip! Thank you!

Our journey included many different occasions for singing. The biggest were the third Ireland Sacred Harp Convention in Cork, the fifteenth Western Massachusetts Sacred Harp Convention in Northampton, and the fifty-second Georgia State Convention in Carrollton. There were many smaller singings, as well, but all were full of the same great spirit as the bigger ones.

P. Dan Brittain teaches a singing school the evening before the third Ireland Sacred Harp Convention. Photograph by Michael Walker.

Our first stop was Cork, Ireland, where the singing and fellowship began the Thursday before the convention weekend, and didn’t end until Monday. Cork’s Camden Palace hosts a weekly singing on Thursday night, a great opportunity to warm up our voices before the convention. A large group, including most of the travelers who were attending the convention, joined the Cork singers. The singing marked the first moments of welcoming, greetings, hugs, conversation, and laughter, with plenty of excitement thinking of how this is just the beginning of several wonderful days together. Sinéad Hanrahan, the chair of the convention, led the opening song, “Liverpool” (p. 37b in The Sacred Harp), and it was incredibly powerful. The energy and joy were almost visible! I was really crushed by the sound! Even though Ireland isn’t the warmest place it the world in March, it doesn’t matter, because you feel so much warmth from this fellowship.

In between singing opportunities, Friday was a good day for a little sightseeing in Cork and the surrounding area. On Friday evening, we attended a workshop led by P. Dan Brittain, who taught about the rudiments of music, discussing the major and minor scales, modes of time and beating time, types of songs, and accent. I particularly enjoyed his discussion of Sacred Harp etiquette and unwritten traditions. We concluded with a humorous singing exercise, the song “Call John” a difficult yet silly tune from the rudiments of the 1911 Original Sacred Harp, known as the “James book.”

Though spare, the new convention hall had been festooned by the Cork singers with posters, crocheted shape notes spelling out “3rd Ireland Sacred Harp Convention,” and other decorations. Photograph by Marcin Lewandowski, soundofphotography.com.

This year the convention was held in a different place than previous two, which were at an old University College Cork library, a beautiful, spacious room. This time it was in Saint Fin Barre’s Cathedral Hall, also very historic place. The hall was a bit smaller, but that gave it even better acoustics for Sacred Harp singing, which was the main purpose of the change. The Corkians did a great job making the place unforgettable. There were embroidered shape notes on the walls, posters, and candles with shape notes at the front directing us to the singing, and many other details which made the room a bit cozier. But most importantly, the sound was very satisfying.

Every year, our European singings enjoy more and more popularity. This time in Cork we had the largest contingent of American singers yet. Every time we meet new people, we have a chance to encounter new traditions, new songs, and even new books; after the Saturday singing, we had an official Shenandoah Harmony book launch and singing. It was exciting to sing from this collection, a mix of the familiar and the very new, and to see what an undertaking it was to create a songbook from scratch. Our Polish contingent led the song, “Freta,” composed by Allison Blake Steel when she was in Poland in 2009 teaching a singing school. Writing the song was beautiful gesture in and of itself, but the song is even more meaningful because it includes Polish verses. It was very moving to sing for the class in our native language. On Saturday night (frankly, every night), we socialized in the traditional Irish fashion—in pubs. Our evenings were full of people, Irish beers, laughter, and occasionally even some singing.

Thom Fahrbach, of Portland Oregon, gives the memorial lesson at the third Ireland Sacred Harp Convention.

Kama Dembińska leads the class at the convention in Cork. Photograph by Marcin Lewandowski, soundofphotography.com.

Sunday was a powerful contrast, rich in beautiful and significant words. The memorial lesson, led by Thom Fahrbach of Portland, Oregon, was an experience that I will never forget. It was actually the first memorial which I heard that actually took the form of a lesson. Thom was very interactive, asking questions, forcing us to think, and showing us many ways of understanding the concept of “Sabbath.” Thom demonstrated that our singings feature diversity of thoughts, believes, backgrounds, but also showed us that it’s important to realize when we see this crowd singing that despite our endless variety, we are all one together, and we all “belong to this band.” As a complement to the memorial lesson, Harald Grundner from Bremen, Germany, gave the closing prayer on Sunday, presenting an honest and beautiful account of his experiences with and motivations for singing Sacred Harp, how this has affected his understanding of life, values, and faith, and led him to a better understanding of what many kinds of people take from this music, including those that are not necessarily religious. And yet still, we sing religious music together. Tolerance and understanding are central to our tradition. As we recognize the beauty in the variety of life paths that intersect with our own, we see that in spite of all our differences, this music and the values that it represents enrich us all in so many different ways.

After all these wonderful events in Ireland, we bade Europe farewell and prepared to continue our trip across the ocean. We said goodbye to our Polish friends who couldn’t come with us, but we took with us loads of hugs, kisses, and greetings for our American friends on behalf of the Polish singers. Going to the Western Massachusetts convention was actually a sort of homecoming for us. Several New England singers helped start a tradition of Sacred Harp singing in Poland. The last time we were there was three years ago, on our very first trip to the United States, and our very first Sacred Harp convention, when six Polish girls and a monk came to the Northeast. So being here again, even as a contingent of two, was a meaningful experience for us.

The singing at Northampton is a place where many singers’ paths cross. Cora Wareh leads the class. Photograph by Kelly Taylor.

The singing at Northampton is a big singing where many singers’ paths cross. This time around, the European contingent included two Irish girls, two Polish girls, and one German girl. It was funny to see each other just a week after the Cork convention, but in different country and even a different continent. My experience there three years ago of a massive crowd that sounded like one powerful voice still echoed in my mind. This time was equally satisfying. I especially enjoyed the opportunity to switch between sections, since in Northampton there are plenty of singers on every part. Even if you choose a difficult or seldom used song, it is always well sung, since there are so many good singers all around the square. A particularly powerful song this time was “The Ark” (p. 506), led by Becky Wright, Rachel Hall, and Nora Miller. The air was so thick with sound it seemed to embrace me. And one of my favorites, “The Child of Grace” (p. 77t), led by Cheri Hardy, was alive with the feeling of encompassing happiness and fellowship. It was my own personal pleasure to lead “Newburgh” (p. 182), with Tim Eriksen. It was also very exciting to see how many children led in Northampton on both days. One song was also led by group of students from Bennington College where Allison Blake Steel, Dan Hertzler, and Ben Bath are leading a weekly Sacred Harp singing school (before his move to Atlanta, Jesse Pearlman Karlsberg led these sessions). It shows that this tradition is continuing to grow, reaching new generations.

Nora Miller, Becky Wright, and Rachel Hall lead “The Ark” (p. 506) at the Western Massachusetts Sacred Harp Convention. Photograph by Kelly Taylor.

The Saturday social is traditionally held at the home of John and Greta Holbrook. Thanks to their great hospitality we had a wonderful party, occupying their entire house and the barn with a variety of musical and social activities; you could sing more from the Sacred Harp, Shenandoah Harmony, or Lloyd’s Hymnal. You could listen to a band playing traditional melodies, including ballads from New England and other regions. Or, you could even train your brain by playing shape note “SET,” a card game invented by Lauren Bock. If you preferred, you could also just rest, eat, and talk with friends.

After two weeks, I had already had so many amazing experiences, and the beginning of my journey seemed like it was ages ago. I was chatting one day with a friend whom I met in Ireland: “I feel like Ireland was ages ago!” He replied, “Ha. It was just two weeks ago that we sat next to each other in the treble section at Camden Palace.” It seemed crazy, but I realized that he was right. It’s a funny thing how after a month of absence, the people who you left at home either forget about you or start getting concerned, asking questions like, “So really! WHEN are you coming back?” or even “ARE you coming back?!” At some point I realized that I felt completely outside of time. As I contemplated my journey and all its richness, I had an overwhelming and thrilling feeling that wherever we go, people care about us. Even on a foreign continent, we found our family, this great band all around us.

Justyna Orlikowska leads at the Georgia State Convention. Photograph by Matt Hinton.

Our last big stop was the fifty-second session of the Georgia State Convention in Carrollton. It was a smaller singing than the one in Northampton, but full of great voices. It was less formal and more familiar and intimate. It was possible to talk with practically everyone in attendance. Our hosts were cordial and happy to entertain travelers. They showed us their hospitality and caring in many ways, reminding me once again of what a great community we are.

Adding to all of this was the unique feeling of singing somewhere in the southern U.S., touching this tradition close to its heart, a sense that filled me with such joy that at the beginning of the first session on Saturday as I sat and listened to the sound, I laughed to myself just to realize that we were truly here. Attending the Georgia State Convention was also a great opportunity to meet life-long singers and others who have contributed so much to the tradition of Sacred Harp, people like Hugh McGraw, Charlene Wallace, Reba Dell Windom, Buell Cobb, and so many others. It was also remarkable to meet people who were related to the composers of some of the best-loved Sacred Harp songs—or even the composers themselves. It is also wonderful to experience an unwritten part of the tradition that you have to encounter in person to understand; the things you can learn only by singing with others. For example, I enjoyed singing “Weeping Mary” (p. 408) and hearing how at the end of the song when each part takes turn singing the final phase, the altos in Georgia stayed silent until their part came in—different from what I had heard at singings in Alabama where the altos had held their note until their entrance. It would be a shame not to mention the dinner on the grounds, which was extraordinary, delicious, and overwhelming—vegetables, salads, meats, and desserts… my taste buds were in delight. After the convention, we went to the Sacred Harp museum at the Sacred Harp Publishing Company headquarters in Carrollton. Here, beautiful memories are saved in photos, articles, videos, books, and recordings. I recommend that everyone go there. You will feel even closer to our wonderful Sacred Harp heritage.

Front bench tenors at the Georgia State Convention. Photograph by Robert Chambless.

On our entire thirty-day trip, we only had two days without any singing! I am counting conventions, regular weekly or monthly singings, workshops, meetings at someone’s house, singing in the car, or whatever other surprising places that turned out to be perfect for singing. Just two days, with our twenty-eight other days beautifully accented with the sounds of music. And I still can’t believe it! The closest I can come to expressing my feelings is to quote the text from “River of Jordan” (from The Social Harp): “My soul is happy while I sing, happy, oh happy, I feel that I am on the wing…”

Many people, many paths, and many singings. I am so moved by the often unexpected but always fulfilling crossings that I experienced. I was also grateful when people from the U.S. and elsewhere who had come to sing in Europe were encouraging others to visit and sing with us back home. You are all invited to join our road, maybe at the second Poland Sacred Harp Convention in September!

It is beautiful when we can say that we like singing with each other, but maybe it’s even better when we can say that we simply cherish the time that we have spent with each other. We met so many wonderful people during this trip about whom we can say both things without hesitation. What could be more precious?

I recently was invited to ride with the world-renowned duo of Hugh McGraw and Charlene Wallace to Oscar McGuire’s monthly singing school down in Roberta, Georgia. No Sacred Harp singer in their right mind would pass up such an opportunity, so of course I said yes. How I, a mere babe when it comes to shape-note singing, became associated with these two pantheons of the singing community is another article in itself. For now, I hope to share with you some things I learned on our crusade.

I’ll begin with a shameless plug for Oscar by saying if you haven’t been to one of his schools I highly recommend it. I learned more about the principles of the music and found why the music is written and sung the way it is quite fascinating and ingenious. I was also reminded of music theory involving chords and scales that I had forgotten over the years. Altogether the music began to make a little more sense to me. Try to make it to one of his schools if you can, you will be glad you did.

My trip began promptly at 8:30 am with Mr. McGraw arriving at my house, about one mile from his own. From there we would pick Ms. Wallace up in Carrollton and drive another hour and a half south to Roberta. What an adventure it was. Little did we know that the “Peaches to Beaches” yard sale was occurring simultaneously. This is a statewide yard sale that stretches from somewhere around Newnan all the way down to Brunswick. Every few miles folks were stopping to find roadside bargains. Mr. McGraw repeatedly tried to tempt Charlene into stopping, but each time she reminded him she did not go “Yard Sailing” like some others they might know. I entreated him to stop at one with a Go-Kart I wanted to buy for my seven-year-old son, but he didn’t like the idea of strapping it to the roof of his Buick so alas we continued on our journey unimpeded.

Of course no road trip is complete without a moment when, as a passenger, you begin to wonder if this might be the last road trip you ever take. Make no mistake Mr. Hugh is a good driver, especially considering his age, and I would not hesitate to ride with him again. However, there was one particular incident where he thought it best to pass a semi-truck just before the four lane highway turned into two. At which point he became firmly embattled in a game of chicken with an oncoming car. Mr. Hugh refused to yield and both the approaching car and semi-truck were forced to the roadside. Thus, Hugh McGraw arrived on the two-lane victorious with no party suffering damages, and Charlene and I were assured and grateful that God does answer prayer. I have recently observed that Mr. McGraw is frequently on the go, and does not dilly dally. I don’t know if Hugh has ever even heard of Tom Petty, but it is clear he abides by Mr. Petty’s words, “… you never slow down you never grow old …” and is living proof that they are true. He does however know of Bruce Springsteen and is grateful for his recent use of “The Last Words of Copernicus” (p. 112 in The Sacred Harp).

Once we arrived safely in Roberta we were pleased to find that Oscar had gone through the trouble of preparing his famous store bought cinnamon rolls, which really hit the spot after a near death experience. After the morning class we also enjoyed a “Dutch Treat” lunch at Hudson’s BBQ in downtown Roberta (they were too poor to build a town square, so it’s more of a “T”). I offered to buy lunch to pay for my ride, but I was informed that “Dutch Treat” means each person pays for their own meal. Anyway, if you like barbecue it is pretty good, and if you like taxidermy the atmosphere is a little on the wild side too. We then cruised the town, which was in full array due to the community wide yard sale, before returning to sing. In the afternoon we each chose a song and did the best we could with the small group in attendance. At around 2 pm or so, we began our drive home.

A year ago or so I began compiling a list of questions to ask Hugh. At singings he is usually surrounded by others and there is not enough time to talk to him as much as I would like. I thought this trip would be an excellent time to ask my questions. The three of us talked virtually the whole way there and back on a myriad of topics. I was going from memory and didn’t remember all my questions, but I did get a few answered. The interviews I have seen and heard with Hugh have mainly focused on Sacred Harp and his personal involvement. My questions are more on his musical compositions and writing shape-note music in general. This is what he told me that you may or may not already know.

Hugh began writing songs about seven or eight years after he started singing Sacred Harp. This would be somewhere around 1958. He would hum a lot as he went about his day and write down a melody first. Then he would give it to other accomplished singers and composers to get their input. He would keep refining it until he got the finished product we sing today. Prior to singing Sacred Harp he learned to play the guitar and sing, and learned a little piano too. He wrote songs up until 1992 at which point he felt like he should “retire” from song writing. Even so, composers still give him songs today to improve. If you look at the previous edition of The Sacred Harp, you’ll see that Mr. Hugh also wrote alto parts to some of the older songs which are not attributed to him in the 1991 edition. The first song he wrote was “Living Hope” (p. 500), and the song he enjoys singing the most that he wrote is “Phillips Farewell” (p. 549). That is really all I remember that I had not already learned.

Together Hugh and Charlene explained a lot about Sacred Harp in general and shared some stories from years gone by. They obviously care deeply about the music and all the traditions that go along with it, and have a great concern for the future of Sacred Harp. We all had a good time, and I hope to travel with them again soon. So whether you’ve been singing Sacred Harp for decades or are a beginner, head to one of Oscar McGuire’s singing schools. You will learn a lot, maybe more from the trip there and back, and hopefully I will see you there.

The United Kingdom Sacred Harp Convention

Friday, September 14. I made it to England! London Luton Airport. Wizz Air, a cheap carrier, of course. I learned a new American slang word when a friend from the United States laughed at the airline’s name when he first heard it. While I land alone I am met at the airport by possibly the furthest traveler to the UK Sacred Harp Convention, who has just arrived after his twenty-hour journey from Oregon.

Singers enjoyed sitting and socializing on the green next to the Winnersh Community Centre Hall, where the UK Convention was held. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

Winnersh is so pretty. The singing venue is within walking distance of our inn, but we can also hop on the train and get off on the next stop. I look around—compact houses, small train station, trees, brisk air, sunny day. All this feels so relaxing to me, like this place was scaled for comfortable living, not for a race like the overgrown and crowded cities I had just left.

I enter the convention venue. Am I dreaming? Where am I? So many of these people I saw in the United States. Others I meet for the first time. Alabama! Really? Texas? These are the places where I would usually go to listen and learn! And now I can hear these voices on my home continent, and will soon in my home country!

I sing alto and really enjoy the accent I hear. I try to sit closer to the basses as I am delighted with the sound coming from their direction. I just spotted Dan Brittain! And Mike Hinton, who later got up to lead his uncle Howard Denson’s “Homeward Bound” (p. 373)—what else could one do with such genes?

I can sense the air of friendship and kindness present at all Sacred Harp singing events. I feel so good seeing people I know and watching them find their way around the room, showing interest in others, strolling outside on the grass… Jesse sets his recorder up in the corner; Lauren displays her hand made jewelry. I am so warmly touched to see that she painted the Polish Sacred Harp Convention logo on her earrings and pendants—A moment later and one of her pendants is around my neck!

Terry Barber of California leads a large class of singers at the UK Convention. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

During the break for dinner, I discover Edwin’s amazing baked salmon. I usually don’t come back for seconds, but this time I had to make an exception! There is so much food that there was still a huge variety when I arrived at the tables even though I was one of the last people in line. Wow! I realize that I am getting stressed about what is going to happen next week in Warsaw, wondering whether we could ever assemble so much food ourselves!

Michael Walker, of London, was the capable chair of the 2012 UK Convention. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

I can’t stay stressed for too long though, with so many friends and smiles all around. Michael Walker shares his “know-how” with me during dinner on the ground. And as we leave, David Ivey gives me some final instructions for the upcoming week: “Get some sleep, kid!” he says with a kind grin. This is my favorite comment!

A memorable part of the singing was the celebration lesson. A counterpart to the conventional memorial lesson held on Sunday, on Saturday the singers express gratitude for all the blessings of the previous year. The committee read a list of joyful occasions like birthdays, promotions, retirement, travel, and many other exciting events that singers wanted to celebrate.

I can’t find the words to express how splendid this convention was. Thank you to all the officers, especially Michael Walker and his two right-hands: Steve Fletcher and Martin Williams.

Camp Fasola

Still in high spirits after the UK Convention I landed in Gdansk, Poland. I was thrilled to finally be a host rather than a guest! I felt so glad that after all of the generosity I experienced abroad I could return the favor in some small way.

Wichrowe Wzgórza, a beautiful retreat center overlooking a lake in the town of Chmielno in northern Poland, was the perfect setting for Camp Fasola Europe. Photographs by Ewan Paterson.

The guests were terrific. They showed up in a great number from far and near. Camp Fasola was held at Wichrowe Wzgórza, a beautiful retreat center overlooking a lake in the town of Chmielno. The venue owners were helpful and accommodating, and they even seemed to like the singing! I was delighted to welcome our fantastic teachers. Our gratitude to David Ivey for making the Camp happen could never be too great. I deeply hope he will be back soon with his wonder-team! The camp was perfectly tailored to our needs; teachers brought both academic and practical approaches, and taught with the sincere desire to help all of us, regardless of what level we were at. Most of all, there was lots, lots, and lots of music!

Tim Eriksen teaches a class at Camp Fasola Europe. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

One of the lessons I enjoyed the most was given by Tim Eriksen. He told us that for him, the heart of the music was rhythm. We sang a scale repeating the first three notes twice: “fa sol la, fa sol la, fa sol la fa sol la mi fa”—and the accent appeared naturally. Now, he said, try to imagine, while you sing, that everyone else’s voices are also coming out through your own mouth. What a feeling! It gave me an intense experience of truly singing together. The pulse was there, the harmony was there… I think everybody should try it.

Another excellent lesson I attended was David Ivey’s class on the “Ungreatest Hits.” He identified the songs that were sung the least during the past years and chose some of his favorite compositions for us to try—I couldn’t believe that “Infinite Delight” (p. 562) or “Kingwood” (p. 266) were among the least picked!

Other vivid memories include one Polish singer being deeply impressed by Dan Brittain: “He opened the book maybe three times during the whole singing!” Dan was one of the stars of the camp. He wrote a song, “Chmielno,” especially for this occasion. He shared with us was that his song “Novakoski” (p. 481) was initially meant to be sung as “Greenwich” (p. 183) is, with the first part slow and the second part fast. We all enjoyed singing it that way.

I sincerely appreciated the selection of topics for the camp, particularly the hints about how to organize and conduct a singing, the tips on arranging by Jesse, and the keying class by David. I regret that I wasn’t able to make it to all the classes I wanted to; I hope yet to hear Chris Brown discuss the English origins of Sacred Harp lyrics.

A Kashubian folk show at Camp involved singing, dancing, and snuff-taking, resulting in much sneezing. A good time was had by all. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

I have many fond recollections of our few days at camp: Sadhbh’s crazy invitation to swim at 6 am, or the Kashubian folk show when campers happily joined in, even to the extent of taking snuff, resulting in sneezing for the next fifteen minutes. A particularly memorable moment was when the Kashubian speaker mentioned that the Kashubs were oppressed for some time and couldn’t use their language, but finally achieved the freedom to do so—at that point the listeners spontaneously applauded. For me this spoke volumes about the people who were there. Even though their ages ranged from eighteen to eighty and they came from countries as varied as the United States, United Kingdom, Ireland, France, Germany, the Czech Republic, and Poland—I reflected on this variety and wondered where else one could  gather people so different yet so bonded as Sacred Harp singers.

The last lesson of the camp was Karen Ivey’s. And yes, we cooked! We also learned how to wrap up food so it doesn’t get cold and how to pack it so it would take up the least possible space. She told us about making 20 dishes for a singing! I was a little worried since we were hosting this food expert in Warsaw in two days, and half of the Polish singers were still at the camp! “You know Gosia,” she told me, “when there are not too many cooks, it is okay to cater.” A sigh of relief welled up inside me, evoked by these kind words of support from a true dinner on the grounds authority. Luckily, as it turned out, we didn’t really have to cater at all.

The First Poland Sacred Harp Convention

Our convention exceeded my wildest dreams. It is hard to put it into words.

Some people told me later that these two days were of true significance to them—and I felt exactly the same. It was wonderful to be able to host the people who were so important to us at the various stages of development of our singing group in Poland. Our first teachers, Tim Eriksen and Jesse Pearlman Karlsberg were there, along with others who came later, including Allison Schofield, Michael Walker, and Steve Helwig. We had a room full of people we adore and look up to, who also happen to be our very dear friends—it was wonderful! We did not have an established and well-known singing to offer to our guests—this was the first event of its kind in Warsaw, organized by a handful of people in a foreign country. We never expected such an outcome, such a sound, so many guests. We are infinitely grateful to all of you who traveled to be with us or supported us in any way! We were so well taken care of. We even received a gift of thirty loaner books from Joe Beasley Memorial Foundation, and the Sacred Harp Publishing Company subsidized the cost of shipping the books to Europe.

We also remembered those who wanted to be with us but couldn’t—one of them being Magda Zapędowska-Eriksen, who was the first person that I know of to sing Sacred Harp in Poland. I am sure in the long singing life ahead of us, we will meet again sooner or later!

Finally, memories associated with two specific songs will stay with me for a very long time. David Ivey standing up, asking “Has anyone lead 86 yet?”—and the view of people springing up from their chairs after singing the notes to “Hallelujah” (p. 146), our closing song, to hug.  Thank you dear friends! Please come back soon!

The Seventeenth Annual United Kingdom Sacred Harp Convention,
September 15–16

Four of us squeeze into a tiny car and set off from Norwich, cradling our precious food dishes in our laps. Stuck in traffic, the windows are wound down and we fill the September air with our croaky voices; no one in the queuing cars around us is left in any doubt that we’re “Bound for Canaan.”

So began more than a week of Sacred Harp singing in September.

We arrived at the hotel near the village of Winnersh, Berkshire on Friday afternoon, where over drinks and food we greeted old friends and visiting singers from overseas.

More than 140 singers registered for the 2012 UK Convention: a record turnout. Here Robert Wedgbury leads the class. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

The next morning we made our various ways to the convention venue, Winnersh Community Centre Hall, a rather nondescript but large village hall, and one that suited its purpose. After teas, coffees, biscuits and plenty of hugs, it was high time we got down to some singing. And what singing! A record turnout for any UK Convention, with over 140 singers registered, including singers from the United States, Ireland, Poland, Germany, and the Netherlands.

Though the acoustics were nothing special, the number of singers and the quality of the singing more than made up for it, and few could deny that the sound was impressive. A special tradition of the UK Convention was its Celebrations Lesson. This counterpart the memorial lesson, held on Saturday, created a pleasant positive space to reflect on those things in life we should feel grateful for, and wish to congratulate one another on. At lunchtime we were well supplied (as always, perhaps too well supplied!) with a spread of delicious food, and the weather was fine enough to eat outside in the sunshine.

After the singing on Saturday, those of us who felt up for more stayed on to sing from alternative sources, using a booklet put together by Michael Walker. This booklet included several new compositions and a selection from the then forthcoming Shenandoah Harmony.

A number of singers stayed on after the Saturday session of the convention to sing from alternative sources. Sarah West leads a selection from a packet prepared for the session by Michael Walker. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

In the evening, after supper, many of us returned to the Convention venue where we were treated to an informal recital by two fellow Sacred Harp singers. Áine Uí Cheallaigh sang haunting Irish ballads, interspersed with jaunty hornpipes, chorus songs and ditties from English folksinger and concertina player Dave Townsend (the line-up was to have included Cath and Phil Tyler, but sadly they could not make it due to ill health).

Singing continued late into the night, which may have contributed to Sunday’s singing sounding a little subdued at first, but we soon warmed up to sound just as good as we had on Saturday.

Sunday’s memorial lesson was one that will stick in my mind for some time. Mike Hinton read some beautiful and evocative lines written by his aunt, Sacred Harp composer Ruth Denson Edwards:

You know, when death comes to each old and well loved friend, we die a little too. Something goes out of us—something that’s missing to the end of our lives. Somehow though the long days pass on into line—the Loom of Life goes on and on weaving a beautiful pattern even though one, two, or three lovely strands are gone.

Handwritten note by Ruth Denson Edwards found tucked into her bible, containing the text of a memorial lesson she gave. Image courtesy of Mike Hinton.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend, and thanks are due to the organizers, Steve Fletcher, Michael Walker, Martin Williams, and John Baldini in the kitchen, aided by an army of volunteers.

We are already looking forward to the eighteenth UK Sacred Harp Convention, which will be held in Durham (the most northerly location yet), at Framwellgate School, September 14–15, 2013. If the recent increase in singings across the country is anything to go by, next year should be bigger and louder still!

Camp Fasola Europe, September 17–21

In the spring, when I first considered attending Europe’s first ever Camp Fasola, it seemed like a distant fantasy, and I had dismissed it as being too expensive. But a large part of its success was due to a few very generous souls who donated funds, both by official and informal means, to enable many singers (including myself) to help cover the cost of attending. We are privileged to be a part of such a kind-hearted, generous community.

Sacred Harp singers board a bright pink Wizz Air plane. Photograph by Lauren Bock.

I did not know what to expect of Camp, but I was very excited by the prospect of spending several days singing and learning. Most of the Camp participants had attended the UK Convention, and traveled together to Poland. Arriving at the airport on Monday morning, we were greeted by a bright pink Wizz Air plane to Gdansk. Polish singer Kuba Choinski met us with a coach to take us to the Camp venue. The journey took us through the picturesque Kashubian hills, villages, forests, and lakes to the town of Chmielno. The venue, Wichrowe Wzgórze (translated as “Wuthering Heights”), was far beyond what we were expecting for accommodation—it felt almost like a luxury hotel, with its idyllic location overlooking Lake Kłodno. There was time for a few of us to run down for a quick (and chilly) dip in the lake before Camp got underway.

Singers take a quick (and chilly) dip in the lake at Wichrowe Wzgórze before orientation. Photograph by Lauren Bock.

The food at Camp was very good, mainly consisting of traditional regional Polish dishes (though at first there were a few teething problems with the European comprehension of the term “vegetarian”).

Lessons at Camp center on approaching singing from The Sacred Harp from the beginning—literally, “the Rudiments.” With basic and advanced classes, we looked at the fundamentals of the music, through the departments of time, tune and accent—including how to beat time, hints and exercises for learning the shape-note syllables, choosing the right key for a song, how to convey your intentions when leading, and striving for a good emphatic driving accent—all demonstrated practically through singing.

It’s difficult to highlight any specific favorite moments at Camp, as it was all excellent. One of the lessons I enjoyed a lot was “The Best of The Ungreatest Hits.” We sang songs from the bottom 20—that is, the pieces that have been least used, according to the minutes; I have never heard “The Bride’s Farewell” (p. 359) sounding so good! A few of us got together for a “Team Tunesmith” exercise: after choosing a text to set, each participant wrote a tenor part, then passed it on to the next person, who wrote the bass, and so on again to the treble and alto parts, so that in the end we had four communally-composed songs. The “Keying Music” lesson was also very interesting, as it is something I am working on at the moment in the singings in Norwich. It was also great fun (though tiring!) to sing as many anthems and odes in one lesson as we could.

Camper and freelance journalist Kate Mossman records a song led by P. Dan Brittain at an evening singing for a short broadcast on the BBC World Service. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

Some of our Thursday evening singing was recorded by Camp participant and freelance journalist Kate Mossman for a short broadcast on the BBC World Service. Kate also interviewed some of us for the program and published two articles about Sacred Harp featuring Camp Fasola Europe, one in The Times (subscription required) and another more recently in Songlines world music magazine.

For anyone who might think they couldn’t possibly cope with a whole week of singing—well, there were plenty of things to do that didn’t (necessarily) involve singing (having said that, I did almost lose my voice during the week). We could go boating and swimming in the lake, try our hand at making some traditional Kashubian pottery, ride in a haycart, and try Nordic walking or cycling. In addition, some of the electives were opportunities to rest tired voices, such as learning about arranging at a convention, or discussing how to prepare suitable food for a convention—we even made a dessert! We also had a chance to see some traditional Kashubian folk dancing and singing, and enjoyed an evening recital by Camp instructor Tim Eriksen.

Campers took a ride around Chmielno in a haycart and had the opportunity to try making traditional Kashubian pottery. Photographs by Ewan Paterson.

I think it is very important for anyone who loves and regularly sings the music of The Sacred Harp to experience Camp Fasola. This is the closest thing today to the singing schools which kept the Sacred Harp singing tradition alive during the nineteenth- and early twentieth-centuries. Not only will you learn an awful lot, but you will have a lot of fun doing so, and return home having made lots of new friends.

Camp is not intended just for new and young singers, and this was really evident in Poland. A few of us had been singing for a matter of weeks, others for twenty years; some for about three years, and others since childhood. Campers embraced the wide range of ages and backgrounds that are a key part of what defines the Sacred Harp community.

Campers embraced the wide range of ages and backgrounds that are a key part of what defines the Sacred Harp community. Photograph by Ewan Paterson.

Our thanks must go not only to the Polish Sacred Harp singers who helped organize Camp, but to all the teachers/leaders, who gave us the benefit of their wisdom, humor, and experience. And of course to all the participants—I am proud to call you my friends, and hope that we will sing again as soon as possible!

First Poland Sacred Harp Convention, September 22–23

On Friday, most of us set off by coach from Chmielno to Warsaw. The long journey soon turned into a traveling Sacred Harp convention (complete with officers and minutes), though there was rather less singing than stopping for lunch and catching up on sleep.

When we arrived, we were taken to our various hosts dotted around Warsaw. The next morning I was among the first to get to the venue, a hall in the Geography Department of Warsaw University, so amidst setting up I took the opportunity to write a welcome message on the blackboards. More hugs for visiting singers, and the singing got underway. The room was a good size with a wooden floor, though perhaps the high ceiling swallowed up some of the sound, making us work harder. And even though many of us were far from being in good voice after singing all week, I think it wouldn’t be exaggerating to say atmosphere was electric. To have over 120 people—American, British, Irish, Polish and German—all singing together from The Sacred Harp is something that would have been unimaginable even five years ago.

The Poland Convention was held in a hall in the Geography department of Warsaw University. Photograph by Jesse P. Karlsberg.

The evening social events were also very special. We walked through Warsaw’s romantic Old Town to a small community hall to hear a traditional Polish female singing group, and then across the city to the old Krasiński Library, a building deserted after the war, but which has now been taken over by artists and musicians who regularly hold concerts and events there. Some really excellent Polish folk musicians were playing, and we soon started dancing around in the candlelight. The mysterious, gloomy ambience and the cathedral-like acoustics meant that once the dancing was over we soon had our books out (despite the limited visibility) and were singing our hearts out.

UK singer Colin Higgins took some great videos of both the Poland and UK Conventions, which can be seen on Youtube. As the first ever Sacred Harp convention in mainland Europe, the Poland Convention was a resounding success. Thanks must go to the Poland Sacred Harp singers, Kuba Choinski, Justyna Orlikowska, Bogna Różyczka, Jacek Borkowicz, Gosia Perycz, and many more for organizing such a fantastic convention.

The question is: How did Sacred Harp singing find its way to Australia? Did Australians visiting the United States come across Sacred Harp singing and start a group on their return home? Did an Australian musician come across a recording, feel the power therein, and gather his friends together to sing this music themselves? Did the tradition, having taken root in England, then spread out to the colonies, like custard tarts or the Dave Clark 5? The answer is all of the above, and these various paths converged in Sydney on October 6, 2012 for the first Australian All Day Singing.

Natalie Sims and Shawn Whelan, who encountered Sacred Harp singing more than a decade ago in the United States, lead at the first Australia All Day Singing. Photograph by Dianne Porter.

About ten years ago Melbournites Natalie Sims and Shawn Whelan spent a period of time living and studying in the United States. Towards the end of their stay they encountered Sacred Harp singing in New England and loved what they heard, particularly at the end of their trip when they attended the Young People’s Convention in Leyden, Massachusetts.  When they arrived back in Australia, as Natalie puts it,  “There was no group, so we had no choice but to start one if we ever wanted to sing shape-note music again. And we did!”  They purchased books and recordings and established a small singing in Melbourne, which over the years has welcomed several overseas visitors, including me. One of their earliest visitors was the late Bob Meek who told them that if they were to organize a big singing then people would come. At the singing on October 6 we remembered Bob for his prescience.

Much more recently, Sydney bluegrass musician James Daley, who has a strong interest in American traditional music, came across some older field recordings of Sacred Harp music, which intrigued him so much that he started gathering his friends to sing.

Sydney bluegrass musician James Daley leads a song at the first Australian All Day Singing. Photograph by Dianne Porter.

Enter the ebullient Eimear Cradock, recently arrived in Sydney from Ireland. Eimear had started singing Sacred Harp in Cork, where she had attended the first convention there in March of 2011.  The experience of meeting and singing with the singers from all over Europe and the United States touched something in her, and as she puts it, “From then on the experience of this music became richer with every singing/meeting/roadtrip/shape-note singing adventure, to the point where I found myself on the other side of the world, book in hand, not knowing if I would find anyone who sang this beautiful music here.”

Eimear Cradock, who started singing in Cork, Ireland, leads a song at the first Australian All Day Singing. Photograph by Dianne Porter.

Eimear soon found Natalie and Shawn, who put her in touch with James, and because of her experience at the convention in Cork she was determined to gather all the singers in Australia together, to introduce the newer singers in Sydney to the joys and possibilities of the music. In her grand passion and enthusiasm, she set the organizational wheels in motion and less than a year later there we all were, on a beautiful October Saturday in a fine Sydney suburb, singing at Australia’s very first all-day singing.

I had been to Australia before. I love the country, and I have many friends who live there. Besides this, my company has branches in Brisbane and Melbourne where some of my colleagues work, colleagues whom I’ve long wanted to meet face-to-face. I’ve been saving for and planning another trip to Australia for several years. When I saw that this singing was going to happen, I knew this was my perfect opportunity.

And oh, the singing was going to be in Sydney! Flights from the United States tend to arrive in Sydney at dawn, and as you approach Botany Bay you can look out of the airplane window and see the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House, right at Circular Quay in the heart of the city. This is a view you have probably seen many times in pictures or on film, but to realize that this is the real thing sets your heart beating with excitement. Sydney Harbour is one of the most beautiful places on earth. Sydney itself is a wonderful city, architecturally rich, bustling and cozy both. It is somehow familiar yet somehow strange, which makes for a feeling that you have indeed landed in Oz.

The first Australia All Day Singing and the regular monthly singing the next day were held at the Annandale Creative Arts Centre, a former Baptist Church in a suburb of Sydney. Photograph by Dianne Porter.

I arrived a day early for the singing, during which I just relaxed as I walked around this city I love. I sat at Sydney Harbour and gazed at the water, considering the rich history of that very spot. I went to dinner with my local hosts, friends I met during my first trip to Australia, and yes there was kangaroo steak on the menu so of course I had to order it. It was delicious.

On day two in the land down under I was ready for the singing. I took a bus to the inner suburb of Annandale, an area that was quite grand during Victorian times and still offers some wonderful walking on an early spring October day, with the trees coming into bloom. I was very far indeed from the rural U.S. South, where I have often traveled to sing, but in its own way it was as sweet and beautiful as you could want.

The singing was held in a former church building that is now a community center. I arrived, and there was Eimear, welcoming all, figuring everything out, excited at the culmination of a lot of work and planning. Visitors from Melbourne came early, with boxes of loaner books and willing arms to help set everything up. There were visitors from Canberra, and even New Zealand. I, myself, was on edge with excitement. I was so very very far from home—farther from home than I’ve been when I’ve gone to Alabama or Georgia or even England, far from my home and even farther from the home of this music you might say—but here we were, putting together a hollow square.

I know you want to hear about the all-day singing itself, which was the purpose of the visit and the event to which all of this leads. And there are some things I can tell you. I can tell you that there were over fifty-two singers from six countries present. I can tell you that we sang fifty-two songs. I can tell you that the singing was organized as a traditional singing, with dinner on the grounds and a memorial lesson. But on the whole, once you start singing you start singing, and you are lost in that world and it is a singing like any other. There is a universe in a day, a power in each lesson. The specifics merge not just into the day itself, but into all of the singings you ever attended. When you consider that I was in Australia, that most of the singers were relatively if not completely new, that’s saying something.

Steven Levine leads at the first Australia All Day Singing. Photograph by Dianne Porter.

There were some differences from the conventions I’ve attended in the United States, however. In particular, since most of the singers were new, they wanted to go through the shapes several times, to get the songs down before launching into them. But everybody was eager to sing, to sing the songs right. This may not have been strictly traditional, for a convention, but it was absolutely in service to the ultimate goal of why we are gathering to sing. I particularly loved the fact that the people wanted to sing the shapes—they understood their importance and significance. We took more time than is standard to make sure we could all participate as much as possible. At the core the singers in Australia seemed to appreciate everything that many of us love about this music and tradition. And that, as far as I’m concerned, is what makes for a good singing. Because this was a good singing. There were moments of joy, and feelings of community, and a sense of a group of people from around the country of Australia getting together to share time with each other through this music.

Ben Daley leads a sizable class of singers at the first Australia All Day Singing. Photograph by Dianne Porter.

The day passed too fast to catch everything and yet slow enough to enjoy everything. We sang all day, and we closed with the “Parting Hand” (p. 62). Could that be it?  Not quite. Many of us went up the road to have some refreshments together, to talk with each other a bit more. And we were all invited next door that evening for the Sydney Bluegrass & Old Time Music Get-together.

The regular Sunday singing attracted a smaller crowd but was even nicer and more powerful than the previous day’s singing. Photograph by Eimear Cradock.

This was not, technically, a two-day singing, but the next day happened to be the regular time block for the Sydney singing, so all who could stay in town returned to sing again, in a smaller group and a more intimate square. It was a sweet, comfortable time, a little bit less formal and more relaxed than Saturday but people still wanted to sing as much as possible. The general consensus among those who could come for this extra singing was that it was even nicer and more powerful than the previous day’s singing.

James Daley, the local musician who had started the Sydney singing, plays in a bluegrass/old-timey band, along with his brother Ben, and their band just happened to be playing in a “hotel” (which we could call a pub or bar) just up the road. At the singing’s end those of us who did not have to catch planes went over to have a beer and watch them (they were great!) and we were all bursting with pleasure and goodwill after our weekend singing with each other. Eventually we lost a few more people to travel and those of us remaining went to the Thai restaurant next door to end our weekend with a fine meal.

It wasn’t until the following morning, when I was thinking about that most delightful of afternoons, that it hit me hard that until that weekend I hadn’t known a single one of the people I was with at the pub and restaurant. I thought no, that couldn’t be. Because honestly, it was like a happy reunion with old friends.  It was, for me, a time of perfection.

Sacred Harp singing is an amazing way to connect deliciously with people, to share a day of music and passion, singing on to exhaustion, even with brand new friends who live on the other side of the world. There are now many more people in my life. They are just beginning to develop a Sacred Harp singing community in Australia, most of the singers are just beginning to explore the book, but they already feel and enjoy this music and this tradition as much as those of us who have been singing for decades.

I was honored and amazed to be part of the first all-day Sacred Harp singing in Australia. I hope anybody who can will consider making the trip of a lifetime, around the world and across the equator, to join the Australian singers for this wonderful event when it happens again.

Editor’s Note: Natalie Sims writes that “our next Australian All-Day Singing will be in Melbourne on July 13, 2013, at the Brunswick Uniting Church’s Bluestone Hall.” Make your plans to attend!

On the fourth Sunday and the Saturday before in September of 2012 I was able to be part of my first Sacred Harp convention—the Rocky Mountain Convention.

How do you compress two days of volume, of the high fierce notes that for me are so characteristic of this music, into a few paragraphs? Sacred Harp singing, I’ve learned, is one of those things that, in the ungrammatical phrase, “you hadda been there” to really get the full impact of. This Convention wasn’t an exception—no matter how high my expectations, it exceeded them. And I’m not sure that I can adequately put into words the impact the Convention had on me—I’m not sure anyone could.

Certain things stand out.

There’s the experience of leading. We all know just how important standing in the hollow square is to really hearing sacred harp singing. It sounds great from back in your section, whatever it may be. It sounds even better on the front bench. But the focus of all that sound isn’t the third row, or even the front bench—it’s the center of the square. There’s a reason leaders will often bring a novice up with them—once you’ve heard the music from that spot you can never be the same. Some of us who sing are religious and some aren’t. I am, and for me leading, with the exposure to that “original surround sound,” is a religious experience. Over the weekend I was able to lead four times, twice each day, and I worshipped my God as surely during those times as I ever have in church. And even if I weren’t at all religious, there’s still something about 40 voices all singing—and, being sacred harp singers, singing loudly—that transcends mere singing, and becomes something much more than the notes on the page and the methods of singing and leading.

There’s the experience of hearing. Two songs in particular struck me. One was “Clamanda” (p. 42). I’ve loved that one since I first heard it on disc two of Awake, My Soul. But to sit on the tenor at a convention, and actually be part of the driving beat, so reminiscent of an army marching into combat, is something else entirely. Hitting the accents in the chorus—”WELL ARMED with HELmet, SWORD, and SHIELD”—almost made the walls shake, and we were singing in a building with adobe walls two or three feet thick. At that point we had, as I like to put it, blown the roof off and were well on the way to blowing the walls out.

And the second is “Consecration” (p. 448t). This is one of those songs that there’s just not enough of. You want to keep singing it, and keep singing it, because it just lends itself to singing. I had planned to call it, but someone beat me to it, and led it almost exactly as I would have. This is another song with strong accents, accents that demand that you hit them, and hit them hard, producing a pounding beat that defies anyone to stop the singing. Especially in the second section, where the time switches to three over four, it’s easy to understand what Richard Ivey means in—I’m mentioning it again—Awake, My Soul. He says that when he’s singing it feels like the ground’s shaking under him, and it feels like the shaking will lift him off his feet with its power. And though I wanted to keep singing, when the leader finished, and we stopped, I was breathless from the beauty and joy of the music.  I didn’t actually feel the ground shake—but something shook, and I’ll remember it for a long time.

And then there’s the memorial lesson. From years in church I’ve learned that “family” can mean more than just your relatives. And sacred harp singers are a family—and though that’s a cliché, it’s the truth. I don’t know whether they were saying it in 1844 when B. F. White first published The Sacred Harp, but if they weren’t, it can’t have been very long afterward when singers began seeing themselves that way. I had the honor and privilege of conducting this year’s memorial lesson, and to my surprise I found myself almost choking up as I began. I didn’t recognize any of the names on either list—but it didn’t matter. Those singers—whether deceased or shut in—are family, and without ever meeting them I missed them, and wished that they could have been with us to sing.

When I come to die, years from now as I hope, or tomorrow as it may be, I have no doubt that Sacred Harp music will be in my heart. I’ve listened to different kids of music for decades now. But though I haven’t even sung Sacred Harp two years yet, I’ve sung it. It’s all well and good to listen to CDs. It’s wonderful that I can watch DVDs of singings. But there is nothing in the world like singing sacred harp music. Our music, by its very nature, demands that you get involved; its sound is not merely an invitation, but an insistence on participation.

My voice is individual, just as were those voices around me in my section and in the other sections of the hollow square. And on certain notes my voice might have momentarily stood out distinct from the whole. But the reason I was there was not to sing by myself for others to admire. I was there to be part of the class, to lend my voice with its distinctive qualities to the entire class. And when I sang at the Convention, what I sang was more than just my voice—it was something far greater than any one person. All our voices together were something far greater than the sum of our individual voices.

And when I sang at the Convention, my soul awoke.