Timing

As musicians, we think about timing - so - often. 

How much time does it take to prepare _____________ for a concert? There are all sorts of factors with this, including difficulty, style, how much else is going on “in life” at that time, does it have to be memorized or staged ... 

Then within a project, we must obsess over timing in every aspect. How long does it take to move-tune a harpsichord, for a violinist to make a string crossing, for a continuo group to “figure out” the feel of a piece, for a pianist to time a huge leap across the keyboard? How does a singer time a shift through the passaggio, to a high note, or time the initial plosiveness of a double consonant? 

For a performance, how much time do we take between songs or movements? How much is too much, or not enough, for the audience?

A small shift in a metronome marking (or speed) of something can make an enormous difference for the performers and audience. 

Sometimes, we prepare so much for these minuscule shifts, over analyzing them, even.

And just like that, when something is perfectly timed, by surprise, it is remarkable. 

As if God Himself has orchestrated it. 

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11, ESV).