Singing Harmony

This family photo was taken at the very end of the Rudd Family Singers.  Not only had I outgrown the last of the many matching shirts that the three brothers wore during our concerts, but my voice was also changing and so the "such cute kids" quality was fading quickly.  About two years before this photo was taken my mom taught me how to sing harmony - a last ditch effort to save the act?  Or quite possibly just one of the greatest gifts that a parent can give their child.
She sat at this same piano and taught me to hear how it sounded to sing a third below the melody and I still remember the profound *aha* feeling that came with using my voice as a precise instrument that enhanced the sound of the melody, and then another layer of delight as I learned about playful contrapuntal note patterns that add layers of texture to the sound an improvisation to the singing.  About the slightly different rules as my voice turned from alto to tenor to baritone (landing close to bass, but not a true bass).

Every new favorite pop star or indie rock star I came to adore, I managed to find a precise way of singing harmony with EVERY SINGLE SONG in their catalog.  My immediate goal?  Singing with the artist I loved.  My long term goal?  To get pulled up on stage like Courtney Cox did with Bruce Springsteen, but not as a bit of eye candy who knew how to dance, but as a new member of the team, a qualified backup singer who could sing through the rest of the show that night and possibly the rest of the tour. 

To me singing harmony adds creativity and imagination to the singing-along anywhere and anytime.  Singing harmony allows you to find a path through the music that isn't the main path, but is supportive of the main path.  It's an allegory for how to get by in groups, sure, but most importantly the actual experience of it is beautiful and fun and resonant and collective and really unlike any other human activity.

(Thanks, Mom.)