The Texas Music Educators’ Association (TMEA) is the organization that holds the high school All-State competitions in the state of Texas. The All-State process is available for three different music mediums: band, orchestra, and choir. The competition is comprised of three or four rounds of auditions: District (a potential round, dependent on location), Region, Pre-Area, and Area. I have been involved in the All-State process for choir since my freshman year and have once again decided to compete. Part of the process, but not necessarily a deciding factor in advancement, is the Region clinic and concert.

The clinic is a grueling one. The day starts at eight in the morning with roll call and is followed with a brief greeting and introduction. From there, all singers disperse to their respective ensembles to work with their clinicians. I was fortunate to be part of the limited number of students to perform under the direction of this year’s Large School Mixed Choir clinician, Dr. Allen Hightower.

Most of the students at the clinic possessed the same feeling of exhaustion and apathy towards the music in our repertoire. The music we were to perform were pieces many of us had been working on since summer and had been doing so unrelentingly. Each round of the competition necessitates a considerable amount of work and effort. Numerous singers, including myself, had put in hours upon hours of work on this music and had, by the clinic, become jaded towards it. This feeling of detachment with the music was unanimous. Any feeling of enthusiasm for it was near diminished, but by the end of the day, we were left with a restored love for not only the notes on the pages, but for music as a whole.

Music is never just pitches and rhythms. Music is an embodiment of emotion, an expression of creativity, and a universal language that speaks to all. In a competition such as the All-State process, we lose sight of that. It’s no longer about conveying the meaning behind the music or growing as a musician, it’s “how can I sound better than my competition?” When competing in the process, the obvious goal is to proceed to State; however, if you’re not enjoying the music making, you’re going to be miserable at State. It’s hours of rehearsal over the course of a few days, all leading to a concert on the final day.

Dr. Hightower was able to reinforce that sentiment to all of us in the ensemble. The purpose of that clinic was to refine our pieces and create a performance bigger than ourselves. Dr. Hightower was delicate in his criticism, and where most directors would grow frustrated, he proved to be patient. He consistently compelled us to understand what his vision was for the final performance. To do this, he shared his ideas—both trivial and profound—and created a connection with the choir like that of two friends.

To shape the music to his liking, Dr. Hightower also expressed very insightful advice about music and technique. When working with a clinician, one can expect the same advice to snake its way into discourse. Tips for correct breathing, comments about posture, and notes regarding dynamic contrast are bound to pop into discussion. Dr. Hightower acknowledged this, but he expanded on it where others had merely scratched the surface. He touched on the usual subjects, elaborated on its effectiveness, demonstrated its usefulness, but also implored us to retain it for reasons different than his predecessors. Many clinicians employ helpful advice and encourage their singers to retain it for the sake of the concert. Dr. Hightower urged us to keep this advice with us for not only the concert but for each of us, personally, to help grow individually as musicians. He advised on matters not only of music but also of life. He shared very touching anecdotes from his personal life. He spoke about divine power and the comfort it brings. He spoke about how fleeting life is and how not a single day is promised to us.

Dr. Hightower was an inspiration in every sense of the word. His character reflected that of a genuine musician. His love for music was honest, and his words expressed that. He demonstrated to me the kind of person and musician I aspire to be. He provoked a sort of tenderness in each of us; a sort of tenderness that transcends class, age, and gender. He unified us, and he left us with a profound, renewed passion for music and the life it brings.