Hollow Harmonies

Harmonious voices—often described as spirited, soulful, poignant, even haunting—ring out from Middle Creek United Methodist Church in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. These shape-note singers practice an art centuries older than the historic country church where they’ve assembled.

Grouped according to vocal range, a dozen or so members of the dedicated group sit in a hollow square formation, allowing the a cappella voices to focus inward instead of project outward. One by one, members move to the center and lead a selection of their choice, proudly carrying on the generations-old tradition.

“The sound of it is what first drew me in,” says Andrew Whaley, a fourth-generation shape-note singer. “There’s no other sound like it on Earth. There are no instruments, just pure voices. When you are up leading a song, you can almost get up and walk on the sound.” 

David Sarten, leader of the Sevier County (Tennessee) Shape Note Singers for 15 years, and his brother, Joe, also come from a long line of shape-note singers. In fact, most of the faithful members of this group descend from Smoky Mountain pioneer families who have handed down the tradition.  

Shape-note singing (also known as Sacred Harp, or Old Harp) is a participatory, not performance, style of music. Notes of the scale are written in four geometric shapes—right triangles, ovals, rectangles, and diamonds—and are interpreted in song by the voice, or “the harp,” the instrument humans are given at birth.  The seven-shape style is called Christian Harmony.

This genre, which has origins in late 17th-century England, stems from Colonial America. Through the 19th century and into the 20th, singing school teachers visited churches and small, often isolated communities to teach untrained singers to read the special notation. The teachers, whose sole credentials were likely to be enthusiasm and a little self-instruction, usually moved from town to town, at each locality starting a subscription for his school. Hundreds of hymnals exist in shape-note notation. The group practicing in Pigeon Forge uses The New Harp of Columbia by M.L. and W.H Swan, first published in 1848. 

Unlike some other forms of music, shape-note compositions were not written as a result of church patronage or commissioned by wealthy patrons. Instead, the music is composed by and for avocational singers who promote cultural literacy through both music and lyrics. Shape-note singing is intended for the immediate experience of community singers who share in the joy of singing—not for select performance ensembles or highly-trained singers, though the singing groups and enthusiasts often include trained singers.

While many shape-note singers trace their family’s participation back several generations, there are plenty of newcomers to the tradition, too. Bill Gathergood, a retired teacher from Columbus, Ohio, had never heard of Old Harp singing until he moved to the Wears Valley community near Pigeon Forge six years ago. Gathergood saw Old Harp Singing on the schedule for Pigeon Forge’s annual Wilderness Wildlife Week and expected to be entertained with song and harp music. He says he was surprised and greatly touched by the exuberance and spirituality of the music and soon joined the local group.  

“The first time I attended a practice,” Gathergood says, “the oldest person there was 92 and the youngest 19. Everybody is accepted. There are singers representing all [religious] denominations.”

Michael Nichols, a retired public school teacher and adjunct professor at Western Carolina University, says shape notes were created to more easily teach those who had no formal music training. “In the rural south particularly,” Nichols says, “there were no funds for music education, and that fell to the church and community.” He learned shape-note singing when he was a boy. “There’s definitely been a renaissance,” he adds. “In the early ’70s, there were only three or four singings a year; these days there’s one just about every weekend.” He admits a scene of shape-note singing that appeared in the movie Cold Mountain may have spurred some interest in the genre. 

But in the end, Nichols believes the beauty and “poetry of the genre” speaks for itself: “People are simply attracted to the music and want the tradition preserved.”