THE SOPRANOS are the ones who sing the highest, and because of this
they think they rule the world. They have longer hair, fancier jewellery,
and swishier skirts than anyone else, and they consider themselves
insulted if they are not allowed to go at least to a high F in every
movement of any given piece. When they reach the high notes, they hold
them for at least half again as long as the composer and/or conductor
requires, and then complain that their throats are killing them and that the
composer and conductor are sadists. Sopranos have varied attitudes
toward the other sections of the chorus, though they consider all of them
inferior. Altos are to sopranos rather like second violins to first violins -
nice to harmonise with, but not really necessary. All sopranos have a
secret feeling that the altos could drop out and the piece would sound
essentially the same, and they don’t understand why anybody would sing
in that range in the first place - it’s so boring. Tenors, on the other hand,
can be very nice to have around; besides their flirtation possibilities (it is a
well-known fact that sopranos never flirt with basses), sopranos like to
sing duets with tenors because all the tenors are doing is working very
hard to sing in a low-to-medium soprano range, while the sopranos are up
there in the stratosphere showing off. To sopranos, basses are the scum
of the earth - they sing too damn loud, are useless to tune because
they’re down in that low, low range- and there has to be something wrong
with anyone who sings in the F clef, anyway.
THE ALTOS are the salt of the earth - in their opinion, at least. Altos are unassuming
people, who would wear jeans to concerts if they were allowed to. Altos are in a unique
position in the chorus in that they are unable to complain about having to sing either very
high or very low, and they know that all the other sections think their parts are pitifully
easy. But the altos know otherwise. They know that while the sopranos are screeching
away on a high A, they are being forced to sing elaborate passages full of sharps and flats
and tricks of rhythm, and nobody is noticing because the sopranos are singing too loud
(and the basses usually are too). Altos get a deep, secret pleasure out of conspiring
together to tune the sopranos flat. Altos have an innate distrust of tenors, because the
tenors sing in almost the same range and think they sound better. They like the basses,
and enjoy singing duets with them - the basses just sound like a rumble anyway, and it’s
the only time the altos can really be heard. Altos’ other complaint is that there are always
too many of them and so they never get to sing really loud.
THE TENORS are spoiled. That’s all there is to it. For one thing, there are
never enough of them, and choir directors would rather sell their souls than
let a halfway decent tenor quit, while they’re always ready to unload a few
altos at half price. And then, for some reason, the few tenors are always
really good - it’s one of those annoying facts of life. So it’s no wonder that
tenors always get swollen heads. After all, who else can make sopranos
swoon? The one thing that can make tenors insecure is the accusation
(usually by the basses) that anyone singing that high couldn’t possibly be a
real man. In their usual perverse fashion, the tenors never acknowledge this,
but just complain louder about the composer being a sadist by making them
sing so damn high. Tenors have a love-hate relationship with the conductor,
too, because the conductor is always telling them to sing louder, because
there are so few of them. No conductor in recorded history has ever asked
for less tenor in a forte passage. Tenors feel threatened in some way by all
the other sections - the sopranos because they can hit those incredibly high
notes; the altos because they have no trouble singing the notes that tenors
kill themselves for; and the basses because, although they can’t sing
anything above an E, they sing it loud enough to drown out the tenors. Of
course, the tenors would rather die than admit any of this. It is a little-known
fact that tenors move their eyebrows more than anyone else whilst singing.
THE BASSES sing the lowest of anybody. This basically explains
everything. They are solid, dependable people, and have more facial hair
than anybody else. The basses feel perpetually unappreciated, but they
have a deep conviction that they are actually the most important part (a
view endorsed by musicologists, but certainly not by sopranos or tenors),
despite the fact that they have the most boring part of all and often sing the
same note (or in endless fifths) for an entire page. They compensate for
this by singing as loudly as they can get away with - most basses are tuba
players at heart. Basses are the only section that can regularly complain
about how low their part is, and they make horrible faces when trying to hit
very low notes. Basses are charitable people, but their charity does not
extend so far as to tenors, whom they consider effete poseurs. Basses hate
having to give the tenors the right note more than almost anything else.
Basses like altos - except when they have duets and the altos get the good
part. As for the sopranos, they are simply in an another universe, which the
basses don’t understand at all. They can’t imagine why anybody would ever want to sing that high
and sound that bad when they make mistakes. When a bass makes a mistake, the other three parts
will cover him, and he can continue on his merry way, knowing that sometime, somehow, he will
end.
From Barcelona Notes at the Festival EUROPA CANTAT XV in Barcelona in July 2003
Copyright for the figures called «QUINZETS » : Montserrat Cabo, Catalonia, Spain
