I'm blogging right now from my new Mac, and it makes me oh-so-happy. I've never owned one before, so it'll be interesting trying to figure everything out before I leave for school--yikes-- in a few weeks. The Apple Store in Mall of America was crazy busy and slightly intimidating, but we emerged triumphant with a MacBook Pro awhile later.

In the afternoon, my brother and I zipped up to Fort Snelling, where they were hosting a shape note singing get-together. If you want to know more about shape note music (also called Sacred Harp), you'll find me explaining it in this post.

I'd never been to a singing before, and was a bit nervous. I walked into a small schoolroom where singers had gathered.

"Would you like to sing with us?" one of them asked. When I said yes, he said, "There's songbooks over there, fans right there, and water over here. Get those and you can take a seat." I filled up my water bottle, passed on the paper fan, got the songbook, which said The Sacred Harp on the cover, and sat in the alto section. My brother had gone off on his own to explore the rest of the Fort, hang out at the blacksmith's, and watch the cannon presentation, of course.

It was hot and muggy outside, and inside the schoolroom it wasn't much better. Behind me I heard a few mutterings that it wouldn't be a Sacred Harp singing without a lack of air conditioning. The singing got started after about 20 people had gathered. Most of them had been singing Sacred Harp music for a number of years, meeting weekly in the Twin Cities to sing and attending conventions throughout the state and country. I made sure to sit next to one of those people, and luckily, my neighbor could really belt it out. Whenever I lost my place in the music (which happened a lot), I'd just do whatever she did.

Shape note singers sit in a hollow square formation. Anybody can suggest a song, and anybody can get up to lead it from the middle of the hollow square. Leading a song means you give the pitches for Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass, and keep the tempo by waving your arm up and down, pretty much. The huge amount of sound we were able to produce was startling. People visiting the Fort would pop their heads in wondering what all the ruckus was, and sometimes they'd even join us.

After an hour we stopped to take a break, because the leader of the cannon presentation had to start presenting outside our door. Certain singers had brought food for a potluck, so we ate and chatted for 20 minutes or so. My observation is that fellowship is as much a part of the Sacred Harp tradition as singing is--and it made things even more fun! Because firstly, the fact that any of us were there meant that we were a very unique, unusual set of people: I met some like me who had first heard of Sacred Harp through the Internet, documentaries, and the movie Cold Mountain. Most of them were my parent's age or older, except for me and a few college-age girls. The resurgence of Sacred Harp has definitely been an intergenerational kind of movement across the country, though. I don't want to say "popularity," because it's still such a fringy thing, like being a Civil War reenactor or speaking Esperanto.

I got talking with one guy who, on finding out it was my first time at a singing, convinced me to lead a song with his help. That was exciting! Of course, as a newcomer, it wasn't always easy to keep up, but it was still by far the funnest and unabashedly nerdiest thing I could have done with my day. The people were welcoming, and the music and energy were exhilarating.

It was weird, though: I went from the Apple Store in the morning, to singing 18th century church music all afternoon. It was a time warp of a day!