When you ride the London Underground* you will hear a polite British voice advising you to “Mind the gap” lest you disappear into the small void between the platform and the train. If possessed of a fanciful frame of mind, you might imagine the “gap” as a sudden descent into Old London’s sinister sewers or perhaps landing you on some netherworld Platform 9 ¾ alongside Harry, Ron and Hermoine.
A month or so ago in conversation with our Music Director, this writer, with a characteristic lack of tack, asked Bronwyn if she ever longed to direct a “perfect choir”, a choir that learned music instantaneously, that always sang in perfect Singlish, and that intuited every dynamic or emotional direction that she dreamed of. Without hesitation she emphatically answered no. And she then proceeded, with characteristic Bronwyn “brio” to share why she loved directing choirs. She loves the shared journey of singers and director from the first tentative readings of new music, to the frustrating mid-season sessions when everyone forgets what was known just a week ago, to the late season moments when learning gives way to artistry (if only for moments), and finally to the glimmers of mastery that begin to glow like celestial shafts of sunlight through a clearing thunderstorm.
And then she said she viewed the “shared journey” as a way of “Minding the Gap” (which is therapist-speak (and now apparently business-speak) for being mindful of the space between our expectations and reality). This metaphor expresses the void that exists between two boundaries; between our abilities and our aspirations. The void may be small, like that step onto the train, or vast, like a program of music that challenges and humbles singers at every turn.
Therapists work with clients to effect change that will bring the walls of the void closer together. They encourage the development of skills that allow us to more closely approach our aspirations, or they might bring our aspirations closer to reality, or they might employ both approaches to move the walls of the void closer together simultaneously.
And this therapeutic process is rather like a typical choral season. As we journey together from learning to mastery, we are simultaneously building up our vocal skill set while gently adjusting our expectations. The trick of course is shrinking the “gap” by changing your reality rather than changing your aspirations.
So here’s a thought experiment for you. Suppose we all were to work to jump start this process, this bridging of the gap. Suppose we all committed to singing in Singlish from Day 1 in rehearsal? Suppose we all worked outside of rehearsal to begin to learn the notes and tempos on our own? Suppose we all thought about what we aspire to sound like and pushed each other together to get there? Might we perhaps find that we could come closer to our aspirations, to our shared longing for the bittersweet magic of musical mastery.
*The London Underground first began using the recorded “mind the gap” messages in 1968 and somehow that seems just right. 1968, a year when many young people in the western world clearly saw the gap between the reality they knew and longing they all felt for a different, a better, a more perfect world. The journey continues!
A month or so ago in conversation with our Music Director, this writer, with a characteristic lack of tack, asked Bronwyn if she ever longed to direct a “perfect choir”, a choir that learned music instantaneously, that always sang in perfect Singlish, and that intuited every dynamic or emotional direction that she dreamed of. Without hesitation she emphatically answered no. And she then proceeded, with characteristic Bronwyn “brio” to share why she loved directing choirs. She loves the shared journey of singers and director from the first tentative readings of new music, to the frustrating mid-season sessions when everyone forgets what was known just a week ago, to the late season moments when learning gives way to artistry (if only for moments), and finally to the glimmers of mastery that begin to glow like celestial shafts of sunlight through a clearing thunderstorm.
And then she said she viewed the “shared journey” as a way of “Minding the Gap” (which is therapist-speak (and now apparently business-speak) for being mindful of the space between our expectations and reality). This metaphor expresses the void that exists between two boundaries; between our abilities and our aspirations. The void may be small, like that step onto the train, or vast, like a program of music that challenges and humbles singers at every turn.
Therapists work with clients to effect change that will bring the walls of the void closer together. They encourage the development of skills that allow us to more closely approach our aspirations, or they might bring our aspirations closer to reality, or they might employ both approaches to move the walls of the void closer together simultaneously.
And this therapeutic process is rather like a typical choral season. As we journey together from learning to mastery, we are simultaneously building up our vocal skill set while gently adjusting our expectations. The trick of course is shrinking the “gap” by changing your reality rather than changing your aspirations.
So here’s a thought experiment for you. Suppose we all were to work to jump start this process, this bridging of the gap. Suppose we all committed to singing in Singlish from Day 1 in rehearsal? Suppose we all worked outside of rehearsal to begin to learn the notes and tempos on our own? Suppose we all thought about what we aspire to sound like and pushed each other together to get there? Might we perhaps find that we could come closer to our aspirations, to our shared longing for the bittersweet magic of musical mastery.
*The London Underground first began using the recorded “mind the gap” messages in 1968 and somehow that seems just right. 1968, a year when many young people in the western world clearly saw the gap between the reality they knew and longing they all felt for a different, a better, a more perfect world. The journey continues!
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