In college, I sang with an a capella group. It was one of the wiser choices I made in school; the social network, the regular meetings with like minded people, and the chance to make music for at least 6 hours a week- all life savers for me. In fact, I think I loved the rehearsals more than the concerts, but that's another story.
I do remember talking with a friend once about how kitschy the music was, though. We were bum bum bumming our way along, but the music never had the message I was hearing in Sweet Honey in the Rock or the Weavers, two vocal groups that have/had a stronger political edge.
Today, the difference was driven home for me once again. At my school, an AIDs educator from South Africa came to speak. Her name is Zinhle Thabethe and she sings with the Sinikithemba Choir. She talked with our students for about 40 minutes about AIDs in Subsaharan Africa, but before that, she sang with our High School's girls a capella group.
First they sang a song she taught them. It was a simple song, with the chorus of high school girls singing in unison a repeating line, while Ms. Thabethe sang around, through and over them, in the pauses when the girls would breathe, or in a ringing descant over the girls' voices. Occasionally, a few high school girls would add in a harmony line here or there, moving thirds, or a gentle alto accompaniment. But the arrangement was simple, and forceful, and good.
Then, the girls wanted to sing one of their songs, so they sang an arrangementof Madonna's Like a Prayer. It was so tiresome, with too many doo's and human beat boxes, and frenetic blandness. The pitch was shaky, the movements were jerky, and worst of all, I could see myself in what they were doing. They were so proud of the song they were butchering, but it was too much. It lacked the simplicity and clarity of the first song.
I miss the camaraderie of a capella singing. Making music with friends is one of the best experiences of my life. But somebody stop me if I ever try to sing a Madonna tune a capella.
