Intentional Repertoire Selection

Print music is more accessible than ever. Print octavo or digital ePrint, large publishing house or independent self-publisher, original work or arrangement—we have a tyranny of choice, courtesy of the internet. So, the question becomes:

Which pieces are worth your students’ time and effort?

In order to answer that, we have to be able to articulate our values. Why are we doing this work? What is the point of making music together every day? And what are we trying to accomplish by rehearsing and performing a given piece or program?

There isn’t necessarily a right answer to that question. But there still needs to be an answer of some kind. A guidepost for making decisions, so that we’re not just grabbing music off the shelves—real or metaphorical—based on someone else’s values. Ask yourself, are you making your own choices? Or are you simply recycling the models (and actual music) shown to you by your own high school and college directors?

The values I’ve identified for myself as a middle school choir director are the joy of singing and artistic literacy. I know many choir, band, and orchestra directors who would answer this question by talking about artistic beauty. Others believe strongly in stylistic exposure, amplifying diverse voices, and student choice. I value these things too. And if I were working with a different age group or type of choir, one of them might rise up the ladder to take the top spot.

At the middle school level, a lot of students are simply giving choir a try. Maybe their friends convinced them to sign up, maybe they like singing at home, maybe they just want a break from the stress of their academic core classes. Those are all valid reasons that I want to honor! That’s why I want my students to enjoy the music they’re singing each and every day. It should feel good to sing, with meaningful lyrics that feel authentic and true when being sung, whether with other students in rehearsal, while practicing alone at home, or in front of an audience.

And in the future, I want them to find success in a variety of musical endeavors, whether that be auditioning for an a cappella group in college, singing in a professional choir, joining in with the congregation at church, or learning a camp song to sing with their children. I have come to believe that the ability to understand and use notated music is one of the greatest gifts I can provide a student.

I have an ever-evolving spreadsheet of my favorite choral repertoire. In May or June, I take an hour or two to update it based on the past year. Some questions I ask myself include:

1. Which piece did my students most enjoy rehearsing?
2. Which piece was the most successful in performance?
3. Were there any surprises, good or bad?
4. In which piece did the most personal growth take place?
5. Which piece(s) really felt worthy of the work?
6. Were there any pieces that started to fall flat or lose momentum as the semester progressed?
7. Which one thing about this year would I definitely keep the same? Which one thing would I definitely change?
8. Which piece still resonates with me and/or my students today?

Be kind to yourself. Programming is one of the most difficult tasks we undertake. The process of reflecting on it can be both self-affirming and ego-bruising in equal measure. By studying those highs and lows, we are taking a deliberate step toward music making that is a little less obligatory and a little more intentional with each passing year.