It has been 70 years since the Mormon Tabernacle Choir began broadcasting "music and the spoken word from the crossroads of the West." And during that time, the choir has not only become a national icon but its members are accorded unique status -- especially in Mormon country.
If a member of the LDS Church in Sandy or Bountiful, for instance, is introduced as "a member of the Tabernacle Choir," a reverential hush is sure to follow. Such is the prestige factor that has become associated with a choir that performs on the CBS Radio Network every Sunday morning.But Jerold Ottley, who will step down as choir director in December and hand the baton to director-designate Craig Jessop, downplays the importance of the individual qualities of choir members, most of whom, he says are average people who like to sing. According to Ottley, "the sum of the choir's parts is greater than the individual parts." Not many choir members are even soloists, he says, because "a good choir is not a combination of solo voices."
Jessop, former director of the prestigious Air Force Band and its famous "Singing Sergeants," adds that choir members are average people who "have gone through a refiner's fire" to be selected. The result, he says, is "a highly skilled choir." Jessop also believes that a choir member "has to be willing to leave his or her individuality at the door and bring that part of themselves that is a collective whole. That's what I like most about choral music -- surrendering myself to the greater good of the whole. When everything comes together, it's like nothing else -- a musical and spiritual high."
To show how the selection process has evolved, Jessop describes the day he auditioned for the choir himself, back in 1973, under then-director Richard Condie: "I'll never forget it. He took me into the basement of the Tabernacle and had me sing 'Oh, My Father,' and then said, 'See you Thursday night.' Now, it's a very intense, six-month process."
The current application process is "a three-tier audition," Jessop said, beginning with a submission of a taped singing voice, followed by a musical-skills assessment test and culminating with an in-person audition. "So, we may start out with 100 tapes, then 50 applicants are brought in for the musical-skills test, then 25 come in for an in-person audition, and 12 are actually admitted to the choir.
"They come to practices twice a week, and in a concert or recording situation, much more. There was one time when we had nine meetings in 11 days. People drive from Payson, Smithfield, Grantsville and Midway, and it's a big investment of time."
Some people don't make it the first time, but often they try a second or even a third time. Vern Morgan, who has been singing baritone in the choir for five years, had a lifelong burning desire to be a choir member. Finally, as he approached his 50s, he realized time was running out because choir members are asked to retire when they reach the age of 60 or after they have completed 20 years.
So Morgan went through the application process but failed to make the cut after the live audition, even though he has "a pretty good ear." Ottley encouraged him, so he got a vocal teacher, took lessons, then re-applied in six months. It took a third audition before Morgan was admitted to the choir.
Then, one month after he was admitted, Morgan suffered a heart attack, causing him to fear that his choir tenure would be among the shortest on record. But he had bypass surgery, choir leaders were patient with him, and he resumed his choir duties after missing only two Sundays. Morgan is elated to have realized his goal. When he turns 60 next summer, his choir days will be over. "It's been an extraordinary experience," he says. "To be a part of 320 voices singing the greatest music ever written!"
Debra Gehris, a 13-year veteran of the choir, also failed to get in the first time. She made it through the first two phases but got so nervous during the live audition that she did not do her best. She says Ottley made encouraging suggestions to her, so a year later she tried it again and made it. The following year, her husband, David, joined the choir, too, making rehearsals precious time they spend together.
Ottley says there is a reason he has put so much stress on music fundamentals: "We don't have a lot of rehearsal time like some choirs, who practice for six to eight weeks for a concert. . . . We have a concert every Sunday, ripping and reading through music so fast that people need extra ability to keep up."
In fact, the choir is rejuvenating itself. Although the audition process will remain the same, the Mormon Youth Chorus has been replaced by the Temple Square Chorale and Training School, which will run two 11-week cycles each year. "Now, everyone who comes into the choir will have sung in the chorale," Jessop said. "The chorale becomes the gate to the choir and a training tool. President Hinckley on three separate occasions has praised the choir and called it the finest in the world, but then he'll turn around and say, "and they must get better!"
To meet the challenge of LDS Church President Gordon B. Hinckley, Ottley and Jessop decided to try and empower members through an academic setting in which they could develop better skills. Paraphrasing a saying familiar in the LDS faith, Jessop says, "Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day. Teach him to fish, and he eats for a lifetime!"
About half the chorale will be current members of the Tabernacle Choir and the other half will be new singers who aspire to join the Tabernacle Choir. Current choir members will rotate through the chorale's school until all have had the experience. "Instead of dealing with 320 voices, we'll have 60 voices, and the conductor can hear every individual voice," said Jessop.
On Tuesday nights, the chorale meets in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square and sings under the direction of associate conductor Mack Wilberg. At the end of three months, it will present a concert. On Thursday nights, the same group meets with Jerold and JoAnn Ottley, who have accepted a missionary call to serve as directors of the training school. They will instruct in music fundamentals, vocal production, linguistics and diction.
Jessop likens the change to the progress made in LDS missionary work. "Thirty years ago, missionaries had one week at the little old mission home on the corner. Thirty years before that, there was nothing. Today, we have the MTC (missionary training center). The brethren have made certain that these missionaries are as prepared as possible. This is what we're trying to do. In a sense, this chorale is an MTC for singers. It's a revolutionary step."
The ages at which singers may be considered for the choir, from 30-55, have been broadened from 25-55. The chorale, however, accepts younger members who qualify, with the promise that they can be considered for the choir when they reach the age of 25. Dana Lindner, for example, is only 19, yet she has been invited to join the chorale and take the instruction that will train her for choir membership.
At 26, James Fairbanks is a University of Utah music major who spent more than three years in the youth chorus, and he is now excited to have been invited into the chorale. "I'm really enjoying the experience. One of the reasons I majored in music is to one day get into the Tabernacle Choir."
Although some people may still be strong singers when they reach 60, most voices decline. "It's just very difficult when you're dealing with something as personal as the human voice to tell someone to hit the road. It's better to give everyone the same treatment, whether their voices are diminishing or not."
Jessop and Ottley consider the age restriction "a biological truth rather than a subjective judgment." There are some people who retain excellent voices beyond 60, especially some low basses and altos that seem to get deeper and richer, but sopranos and tenors, says Ottley, "are getting pretty threadbare by that time."
When Ottley officially passes the baton to Jessop in December, he will have been responsible for 1,300 broadcasts in 25 years, a tenure surpassed only by Evan Stephens, who served 26 years. "It's definitely long enough for me," says Ottley. "The choir needs fresh blood and fresh attitudes and fresh ideas. And quite frankly, I'm tired. It's a great job, but the pressure is really fierce."
Although Jessop spent several years as director of the U.S. Air Force band, he is trained in choral music and has always had a chorus to direct, beginning many years ago at Granite High School. As he has been taking more and more responsibility for the direction of the choir, singers have begun asking, "Why is Jerry smiling so much, and why does Craig's brow look so furrowed?"
Jessop, who turns 50 this year, has no illusions about matching Ottley's 25-year tenure. "We all serve at the pleasure of the president of the church, but if I can give it all I've got for the next 15 years, I'll count my blessings."
Jessop will be assisted by Wilberg and Barlow Bradford as associate conductors.
Ottley is considering writing a book. "Do you think a publisher would take the title, 'Jerry O. and the MO-Tabs'? he asks with a grin. The comment is suggestive of the many diverse groups from universities, churches and foreign countries who have sung with the choir in the past several years. Ottley and Jessop believe those groups have enhanced the world view of the choir.
In October, the broadcast will include a national radio choir from Peking. "In light of the recent mistaken bombing of the Chinese embassy in Serbia, it even has diplomatic implications for our country. I think it's wonderful that we have the opportunity of hosting a Chinese choir here and building bridges of all kinds," says Jessop.
Both Ottley and Jessop work to make rehearsals as productive as possible but always with a human touch. Ottley says, "If we were too heavy-handed, we would destroy the element of their own human spirit, which is what makes the choir so marvelous in its communication. So we try to introduce a little humor."
Jessop admires Ottley's ability to use "a story to lighten the mood and renew their strength. . . . You've got to know how far to push people who are donating their time."
Ottley points out that choir rehearsals almost always occur "in the interesting dynamic of a fish bowl. When you have several hundred to 2,000 people watching your rehearsals, it tends to clean up your act!"
Jessop remembers standing and quietly chatting with Mack Wilberg while Ottley was directing choir rehearsal when a female visitor stood up and said to them, "This is a sacred building, and we've come to listen!" Jessop says, "We didn't say a word. People are listening to everything that's being said. They've sometimes even planned their vacations so they could listen to the choir rehearse, so it was a good lesson for us."
Because the choir practices at 7:30 every Sunday morning, prior to the 9:30 live broadcast, most voices are froggy. According to Jessop, "No singer should ever be required to sing before noon. It's really a transformation from 7:30 when they can barely croak. I'll tell you, miracles happen every Sunday morning." Ottley remembers that the great tenor, Enrico Caruso, once said, "A singer shouldn't even spit before noon -- let along SING!"
In spite of the size of a group that numbers 320 and may climb to as many as 360, Ottley and Jessop are determined to know choir members by name. Ottley became convinced years ago that "the more people are involved in a group activity, the more the individual responsibility dissolves into the whole." So he studied choir members' and their families' lives and memorized their names and occupations. "It began to pay dividends. When you can call someone by name in the hallway, they feel more responsible to you than if they think you see them as just another face."
Jessop studies a book with photos and biographies of choir members, and when new members arrive, he adds them to his memory bank. That process is complicated by the fact that choir members rotate seating every six months, but he is determined and says he is "almost there."
It's all part of the human touch that ensures the legendary reputation of the Tabernacle Choir.