The AcoUstiKats
If you ask any girl who went through Rush
week at the beginning of August, I’m sure most of them would remember it
vividly, the first night especially. After visiting all thirteen sorority houses,
girls (especially myself) were tired, and a little disoriented. For me, UK was
still a huge, new world, and the hot sun had exhausted me. Before we were
allowed to return to our dorms and crash for the night, we were led through
what seemed like a giant maze of buildings, to the large clock tower that is
basically the trademark of the University of Kentucky: Memorial Hall. We
approached the back of this picturesque building, where the ground concaved
into a crater, and stones outlined the seats. This was an outdoor theater.
Hundreds and hundreds of girls sat down in the grass, and a group of ten to
fifteen men stood up against the brick wall of the building, on a small
platform. All at once, they started singing, but there was no music playing
from a speaker. There were only the sounds of these men, singing in unison to
produce a sound that made my jaw drop.
The AcoUstiKats are an a cappella
ensemble, formed by some of the men on UK’s campus. These men create music,
using only their vocal chords, as they sing a vast array of modern and classic
songs. The members of the AcoUstiKats range from music majors, to fraternity
men, who practice twice a week in the Fine Arts Building, and occasionally perform
in front of the UK student body.
I had never been in the Fine Arts
Building on the University of Kentucky’s campus; I did not even know where it
was. I am a nursing student, so generally my classes are on the opposite side
of campus, or in Whitehall, where it seems like every student enrolled at the
University of Kentucky has at least one class a semester. Walking into the Fine
Arts building, I was pretty nervous, for I had no idea where I was going, or
even what I was looking for. I was instructed over email to go to ‘Room 6’,
which I assumed to be in the basement. I headed down a flight of stairs and
waited. Sitting on the floor, waiting outside Room 6, I
watched as students
walked up and down the hallways. There was a little lobby, where a few students
gathered and were laughing. Sounds of the piano, singing, and laughter floated
out from behind closed doors. The atmosphere was light. I saw a student
approach Room 6, and I asked him if he was in the “AcoUstiKats”. He was dressed
for the weather, a heavy black coat and scarf. He had a warm smile on his face
as he replied, “Yes, are you Katie?” He shook my hand, and I realized he was expecting
me as an observer. His smile calmed my nerves slightly. I followed him into the
room, which turned out to be a small classroom, and he yelled out “Guys! This
is Katie, and she will be observing our practice today.” There were about six
to ten other guys scattered about the room, conversing amongst themselves. A
bunch of them yelled out “Hey Katie,” and some of them asked me what class I
was observing for. I went to the back of the room and sat in the very last
desk. Looking around the room, it reminded me of the classrooms in my high
school. Unlike the large lecture halls I became accustomed to in college, this
room was small, with big windows in the back, and two large white boards in the
front. On one white board, there was black tape, organized into musical staff
lines, and a couple drawn-in music notes. On the other white board, two set
lists were written in red marker. There were four songs in each set, a mixture
of music I recognized as relatively recent, and some songs I did not recognize
at all. One song stuck out to me: a mash up of “Call Me Maybe” and “Payphone.” It hit me then
that this was the song the AcoUstiKats sang when they came to my sorority house
the day before, to serenade us, a traditional act done by fraternities during the
weeks after Rush. I recognized one of the men by the piano as the president of
Sigma Alpha Epsilon (SAE).
There were random bits of singing,
the classic warm ups I remember hearing from choir in my middle school years.
Some guys had extremely low voices, and some relatively high. Some were pacing,
some were sitting on the desks. Eventually, everyone sort of gravitated to the
piano, which was situated in the far right corner of the room. It was a pretty
basic piano, wooden, and painted black. I noticed that one man sat on the piano
bench and started giving instructions. He was leading the group through warm
ups, and I associated him as the leader of the AcoUstiKats. He didn’t look very
much older than the rest of the group; he might have been a senior or graduate
student. He was moving his hands a lot, making motions that the rest of the
group responded too, either changing their pitch, or the sound they were
making. I associated the guy behind the piano as the director. The atmosphere
was still casual: there was no standing in a formation, which you may think of
when you hear “choir”. Some stood close to the piano, behind it or right in
front of it. Some still sat on desks, and when it was not their turn to sing,
they were talking to their neighbor.
Finally, when the group finished
their warm ups, they each grabbed a binder, which I assumed was full of sheet
music, and started to sing a song. I don’t know the name of it, but I realized the
piano had stopped completely. The song was somber, and the different vocal
ranges of each guy created a mix of music that could stand alone, and
background music was not needed. One of the major things that made the vocals
of the AcoUstiKats stand out so much was their musical dynamics. The loud and
soft parts really made the song emotional. At one point, the director stopped
the group, and told them to “whisper sing this part”. The group did as they
were told and then at a new verse, they sang in much louder voices. This
definitely floored me, and the song was made much more interesting to listen
to. Most of the men were looking down into their binder as they sang, reading
the music, but some seemed to have their parts memorized. The president of SAE
was texting as he sang.
As the AcoUstiKats went through
their set lists that were written on the white board, I noticed that they did
not sing all of the songs straight through. Actually, they mostly practiced
singing the background music—not actual lyrics. I quickly learned from
observing this a cappella ensemble, that background music is just as, if not
more, important as singing the words, because singers can not rely on sound
from a speaker to guide them through a song. From the instructions I heard the
director give throughout practice, there seemed to be tenors and baritones. The
whole group seemed to be divided up into different parts, and each group sang a
different sound, at a different pitch. When you put this all together you get music.
Then one or two men got the privilege of singing the words.
Another thing I noticed was how into the music these men got. Instead of
just standing ridged and singing, they were lively. There was foot stomping,
hand clapping. It was impossible to get bored while watching them perform,
because everyone looked so happy—they let the music envelope them. This is the
main thing that dominated my experience watching the AcoUstiKats. From start to
finish, the practice was filled with a light and casual atmosphere, that even
though there was immense talent in the room, it was clear that every member was
there to have fun. At the end of the hour, the practice concluded and as
everyone was gathering their stuff, three different guys came up to me and
thanked me for observing. The AcoUstiKats performed in a concert last week.
