The 1980 South Dakota All-State Chorus

Brahms: Ein Deutsches Requiem; Berlin Philharmonic, Rundfunkchor; Simon Rattle, conducting

One day in September of 1980, late in the afternoon, after football practice, I happened to drift through the band/choral room to pick up my trumpet and noticed that nobody had auditioned for the tenor part in the vocal quartet that would be sent to South Dakota All-State Chorus. No one had auditioned for the bass part either. Mrs. B. had announced times earlier in the week where she would be available to hear auditions for the quartet. Being a freshman, I assumed that some of the more elder statesmen of our high school chorus would vie for this opportunity to musically represent our school at the big event in early November. But nobody had stepped up and it was the last day, nee, the last few minutes before she was closing it down.

I stepped into her office, warbled my way through some vocal gymnastics exercise and got the part. Mrs. B. asked, “Who else is out in the hall? I’ve got to get a slate of names in the mail to the SD HS Activities Association tomorrow morning.” I peeked around the corner and saw my friend John C. grabbing his tuba. Hey, John, come audition for All-State Chorus. “Why?” You get out of school for two days. “Okay.”

We then began a six week series of 15 minute rehearsals; before school, after school, noon. And on Monday nights, a bunch of quartets from area schools would meet at the high school in B town to rehearse the All-State music. And the music … Whoa! This wasn’t the typical diet of “Highlights from ‘Grease’”, Lionel Richie tunes and various three-part happy, fun, God-is-in-the-sunshine-Let’s-go-pet-the-squirrels songs. We weren’t going to sing music to entertain our parents. Dr. Karl Erickson, conductor of the 1980 South Dakota All-State Chorus, had chosen us to deliver a message.

“I will great rejoice in the Lord. For my soul shall exalt in my God. For he has clothed me in the garments of salvation. He has covered me in the robes of righteousness,” sings Isaiah in his 61^st chapter, through the music of Knut Nystedt. But, “Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrow,” he weeps in his 53^rd chapter, through the masterful pen of Karl Heinrich Graun. And yet, “How lovely is Thy dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! For my soul, it longeth, yea, fainteth for the courts of the Lord. My soul and body crieth out, yea, for the living God! O blest are they that dwell within thy house: They praise Thy name evermore!” shouts the writer of the 84^th Psalm. For two days in the beginning of November in 1980, 996 vocally talented, young South Dakotans convened in the city of Huron to prepare the framework through which they would proclaim enormous messages; framework that was forged by masters. And the most notable master was Johannes Brahms.

“How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place”, or “Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen”, is the center piece of Mr. Brahms’ seven part “Ein deutsches Requiem”, Op. 45. As well as being the shortest section of the Requiem, it also is the most concentrated, note for word. Mr. Brahms doesn’t ramble here. This is a four-minute tour of the courts of the Lord. Musical ideas are powerful yet succinct and develop quickly, but give us the illusion that there isn’t any reason to finish early. And though the climax at the top of the mountain isn’t the highest peak in what Mr. Brahms once called “A Human Requiem”, it IS the one that has the most tremendous vistas, and perhaps the strongest assurance that “In my Father’s house there are many mansions.” If this is the muzak that the Lord chooses to pipe into the halls of his house, then the welfare of the eternal soul must be an immeasurable bastion of strength and integrity to be able to bear anything more powerful than these four minutes of brilliance.

Can you believe that they had a dance in the arena for the whole chorus after the evening rehearsal on the first day? From 8:30 to 10:00, 996 singers, complete and utter strangers, yet kindred spirits in music, packed the Huron Arena’s basketball floor to jam to The Village People, ABBA, and ELO. I remember seeing a conga line, some 200 to 250 altos and sopranos strong, and then laughing to see my quartet’s own Lenae vB. and Becky G. leading the whole thing as it snaked its way under the hoops to “YMCA”.

This week, I’ve been in preparation of a performance of Mr. Brahms’ “A German Requiem” and I can’t help but consider that, in light of my 44 years, Herr Brahms was 32 to 35 years old when he wrote this profoundly mature work. I don’t feel old, but when I yield to the memory of youth and vitality in the excitement of a 29 year old conga line, I find it ironic that, in the glow of music that has been fashioned to honor the dead and console the mourning, I haven’t felt so alive in a long, long time.

Credits: Dr. Karle Erickson, for bringing nutritional grown-up music to repertoire-starved high school voices. Your commitment to excellence reaches across a 29-year plain. To Lenae vB., Becky G. and John C., my fellow All-State quartet members. The honor to sing with you was a blessing from God.

Checkup: I lost 4 pounds.