I sometimes think about a really compelling moment in a student recital from grad school. The grad student a year ahead of me composed original music and conducted a concert of a 10-piece jazz ensemble. In the moment in question, he held soundlessly a chord on the piano, and a saxophonist improvised directly into the piano. When he played notes that were in the chord Josh held, the piano strings vibrated sympathetically, creating a ghostly piano timbre underneath the improvisation.
Now, I’m pretty far away from composing experimental large-ensemble jazz music, but I think that it’s a good metaphor for what the best choirs seek to do in performance. We create emotional vibrations that find a sympathetic resonance in the emotions of our audience members. But it requires intention in two ways.
First, we have to direct those emotions to our audience. Just as the saxophonist played straight into the piano, we need to sing straight to our audience.
Second, we need to find a way to have our audience holding the right chord to sympathetically vibrate. That can come in many forms: program notes, spoken introductions, pre-concert talks, lobby activities, visual cues, or just a concert arc that tells a story and guides the audience to the right heartspace.
But it doesn’t happen by accident. Without intention from the saxophonist and the composer, the piano would have been silent. With their intention, the piano sang along.