Recording: Devotional
Discs
I CAN HARDLY believe it, but I have recorded eleven albums, containing some 130 hymns!
When I first began recording, comparatively few Christian artists were in the field. Today, of course, literally hundreds of fine religious recordings are available.
It has been my good fortune to be associated with Christian Faith Recordings, whose president, Hugh Edwards, has always cooperated with me in every way to produce genuinely fine recordings.
Another good friend of mine, with whom I have worked in concert and on recordings, is Paul Mickelson. Paul is president of Supreme Recordings, and is one of the most versatile and talented men in the industry. It is always a joy to work with him.
Every year at the CBA convention, the religious recording companies sponsor musicians and singers currently
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featured on their labels. These artists provide the music for the business meetings, luncheons, and dinners at the annual convention.
Making a record is just about the most difficult job a singer or musician can undertake.
If I am scheduled to make a record, I first must confer with the producer as to the titles, type of instrumental accompaniment, and number of songs to be recorded.
At this point in my recording experience, one of the difficult tasks in preparing to record, is the selection of the titles. For one thing, having recorded 130 numbers, it becomes increasingly difficult to select numbers which (1) I personally prefer, (2) can, in my opinion, be made into an effective piano solo, and (3) will have popular appeal. Of course, the producer, who is paying the bill, will also have to agree on the selections.
Having settled upon the songs to be recorded, I then begin the task of arranging the music, and deciding how they can best be presented as piano solos. I usually write out a few notes on manuscript paper, and begin the endless hours of practice needed to perfect each number. On my album entitled, "Rudy Atwood Plays Two Pianos," this involved arranging the music for two pianos, and mentally visualizing how this would sound. Two of my recordings contain string quartet backgrounds, arranged and conducted by Ralph Carmichael. Ralph worked around my harmony selections, and it seemed strange to me to hear "myself" expanded, as it were, into other instrumental tones. My wife overheard an enthusiastic lady commenting upon one of these recordings as she was en route to San
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Francisco. "There is nothing like it . . . it is out of this world . . . a whole new sound in music!" The remark pleased my wife enormously, because the recording is her favorite, too.
I hardly need to say that Ralph Carmichael is one of the greatest talents in our field of sacred music today. I have found that whether he is arranging for a small ensemble or a full orchestra, whether he is writing or conducting, Ralph is absolutely tops!
One of my most interesting experiences in recording was with the late Les Barnett, who was the undisputed master of the organ. We got together a combination of clarinet, harp, bass, organ and piano for a recording session. On this occasion, we had only selected the songs to be recorded. The arrangements (including chord changes, featured solo parts and endings) were decided during the two three-hour recording sessions. As I look back on it now, it seems almost unbelievable that we came up with a good record.
I have mentioned the three-hour recording sessions. Normally, an LP record will have five or six tunes on each side. Because of musician's union scale schedule, most sessions are planned for three hours. During those three hours, the five or six numbers must be rehearsed and recorded. Of course, you can run overtime, but the producer is not too happy at having to pay for extra studio rental, as well as overtime pay for the musicians. If other musicians are working with me, they must be top-notch—able to read any type of music at sight. I always marvel at these men, who can take a piece of music they have never seen, and play it perfectly the first time.
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Everyone is in his place, the microphones are set up, and now the real work begins. The producer and the engineer are in the control room, and the producer announces the name of the song and says, "Take One." I should say here, that "Take One" is almost never perfect. If the slightest thing goes wrong, perhaps someone strikes a sour note, or the balance is not right, or everyone doesn't come in on the downbeat, or there is difficulty with the tape in the control room—a hundred things can happen—then, we stop, and start all over again. "Take One" becomes "Take Two," and so on. I have been in sessions where it required over twenty takes to complete a number.
All of these retakes make it very difficult for the solo artist. After that first "take" it becomes increasingly difficult to recapture that initial inspiration and freshness. Sometimes the only recourse is to splice in parts of numbers, until finally the song is completed.
But if an instrumentalist has his problems in the making of a recording, a singer's difficulties are even greater. After all, to sing for three hours is exhausting enough, but to add to that the pressure of recording is almost too much to ask of any singer. I have accompanied many singers on record, and often I have seen them begin in fine voice, only to falter and weaken during the final hour of the session.
There is another interesting factor in the making of recordings. It is that mysterious something called projection. Some musicians and singers seem to come through famously on discs, while others equally talented just don't seem to project their abilities on recordings. For instance, I always felt that Bill Carle was
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an incomparable platform personality, but somehow I never could feel that same thrill and excitement coming through on his recordings.
Some of my best solo work is perfected in concert, after a number is recorded. This was particularly true of the hymn, "Flee As A Bird," taken from the eleventh Psalm. I recorded it in what I considered was fine composition. Later, on a warm summer night, I played it in a small church in Hollywood, with all the doors opened. Just outside the platform was a Chinese elm tree, and a bird began accompanying responses to the music I was playing. I could not resist adding little bird notes, much to the delight of the audience. I received a grand ovation, and my wife remarked afterward, "Don't ever leave those little notes out!" This has become a favorite number for many people.
I am sure we are all thankful for recordings. It enables us to hear the musicians and singers we want to hear, when we want to hear them.
