Ed McKeon photo/courtesy the Middletown Eye

Neely Bruce leads singers in a Sacred Harp hymn.

Shaped Note/Sacred Harp Singing
Sun. Nov. 8, 4 to 6 p.m.
Downey House, corner of High and Court streets, Middletown,
For more information call Neely Bruce, (860) 685-2578

Seated in his office on the Wesleyan University campus, Professor Neely Bruce confirms my notion that the best way to research an article about the experience of attending a Sacred Harp singing is — to attend a Sacred Harp singing.

That afternoon, joined by a dozen or so singers in an empty building on the Wesleyan campus, I quietly help to arrange the room's couches, benches and chairs into a hollow square and take a seat with a red, oblong book titled The Sacred Harp — 1991 Edition.

The singing — noun — is popular with students, some of whom already know a great deal about the tradition from taking Bruce's American Hymnody class, but there are others like me who have never done this before. Bruce joins me in the bass section, along with fellow newbie Tom Dean, a pastor at the First Church of Christ in Unionville, and Joe Klemba, a Middletown resident who's been around this block a few times. Surrounding us on the other three sides are various tenors, altos, and sopranos, some of whom, I gather, are choosing today to sing outside their usual parts just to spice things up (show-offs).

The book that gathers us together today in holy music-making has united singers since 1844, when Georgia residents B.F. White and E.J. King first published The Sacred Harp, an ever-expanding collection of hymns and anthems that became the standard text for shape-note singing. (The "harp" in the name refers to the human voice.)

Yes, shape notes. Some genius ("actually, several of them," says Bruce) figured out that it would be easier to teach people to read music if you didn't just have round notes. As a result, different shapes were established for the four syllables, fa (triangle), sol (oval), la (rectangle) and mi (diamond), and while competing systems existed for a time, The Sacred Harp features these now-standard note-head shapes. As archaic as it now seems, most English-speaking individuals in Colonial America learned to read music by using this system.

Bruce and his wife Phyllis started the Wesleyan group soon after arriving in Middletown from the U. of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in the mid-'70s. Together with Larry Gordon of the Word of Mouth Chorus, they founded the first annual New England Sacred Harp Convention in 1976. For the event, busloads of singers came up from Georgia and Alabama to participate, while word simultaneously spread north to Vermont. "We had 300 people here at the Wesleyan Chapel," remembers Bruce. "So we knew we had something that people would want to do, and it would be exciting and it would grow. It has survived beautifully."

Naturally, attendance has waxed and waned over the years. "We used to have singings at our house on a regular basis," Bruce recalls. "This would be very well attended sometimes. And we have had several singings over the years with only three people. But right now it seems to be pretty stable, between 12 and 20. For a local singing, that's pretty good."

In recent years several re-issues of archival Sacred Harp recordings, along with the release of a documentary, Awake, My Soul, and the inclusion of the music in the film adaptation of the novel Cold Mountain, has helped spread interest in the tradition.

Participants feel undeniably drawn to the practice for reasons ranging from the spiritual to the purely communal and all points in between. Over in the bass side of the square, Pastor Dean tells me he's interested in all types of music that express the Faith, but that he's always held a special place for the Sacred Harp sound, while Klemba mentions he learned about Sacred Harp singing at South Congregational Church in Middletown, where Neely and Phyllis serve as musical co-directors. "I don't read music," he says. "I never learned, and one of the things I like about this music is the going-through the 'fa-sol-la' part. ... I hear the tune, and then it's in there. Then I can sing the song."

Soprano Alice Maggio, a Wesleyan senior, expresses her passion for Sacred Harp singing in purely secular terms. "It's addictive," she says. "You meet so many people and it's such a supportive community. You can always find a singing. It's this constant temptation."

At Bruce's suggestion, we go around the room and briefly introduce ourselves. Then we kick it off.

Not being accustomed to the shape-note system, I find, is an immediate liability. When all else fails, I settle in on 'la' as my default syllable. But I soon realize that the other singers are not about to call me out for screwing up. Most of them are too focused on their own singing to notice what I am doing anyway, and even the veterans make some mistakes. Anyway, that's why pencils have erasers.

Two hours fly by, and my voice starts becoming hoarse, in a good way. Between tunes, Bruce shares insights into favorite hymns and composers, and names like Leonard Breedlove, Elihu Carpenter, and Hezekiah Moors are casually tossed around, always with great reverence. I struggle to keep up as we belt out complex multi-part hymns and anthems with wild abandon.

Slowly, I notice that the more reserved members are gaining the confidence to call the next tune and lead the group. When it feels like my turn, however, I promptly chicken out.

Next time, I tell myself. I'll be back.