Mike Bierschenk on Singing and Arranging for Columbus Gay Men’s Chorus
By David Donofrio, CGMC member and communications committee vice chair
Mike Bierschenk is a 15+ year member of the Columbus Gay Men’s Chorus. Here we profile not just his singing journey with us, but specifically, his artistic arranging, which will be showcased in CGMC’s 35-n-Thrivin’, June 28-29.
David: How long have you sung with CGMC, and what value has CGMC brought to your life?
Mike: It’s been over 15 years now, and I’ve only missed one concert in that time. It’s a little staggering to think about in retrospect, but CGMC has become such a big part of my life that it’s less something I do than something I am. Though I’d been out for a few years when I started with the Chorus, I’d never been part of a specifically gay organization, and in a very real way, CGMC taught me how to be me: not only how to accept myself, but how to celebrate every part of me. We overuse the word ‘life-changing,’ but it’s completely accurate here.
David: When did you start arranging music — what drew you to begin that?
Mike: I usually tell people that I’ve only been doing this for a couple years, and that’s mostly true, but there are some precursors, like a setting of “Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming” for my church’s handbell group sometime in the late 90s, or a pseudo-madrigal version of Barnes & Barnes’s novelty song “Fish Heads” for a madrigal dinner I music directed in college. None of these were terribly complicated, but the players and singers liked them, and I got to take the musical ideas bouncing around in my head and make them real.
And that’s really what draws me to arranging. I hear something in my head, a little musical idea or a way of layering sounds to make them beautiful, and I think, “Wouldn’t it be great to sit with that idea and explore it, to make it fuller and richer and better?” In grad school I dropped out of a PhD program in literature to instead pursue an MFA in poetry, because I was tired of analyzing; I wanted to create! Arranging’s an extension of that impulse. I want to be part of making new art, new beauty.
David: What are some pieces you’ve arranged in the past for CGMC specifically?
Mike: My very first piece for CGMC, for our December 2023 concert, was “Welcome Mari Lwyd,” a song by S.J. Tucker that celebrates a Welsh horse skeleton spirit who goes round to village houses at Christmastime and challenges residents to a singing contest for the right to drink up all the beer in the house. (No, really.)
Since then I’ve arranged a wide variety of songs for the main chorus and for our auditioned ensemble, Vox — I love the range of projects Brayton’s assigned me! It’s been everything from alternative rock (The Cranberries’ “Dreams”) to musical theater (Craig Carnelia’s “What You’d Call A Dream” from the off-Broadway revue Diamonds); from traditional folk songs (“Boundless Light,” which combined songs from Tibetan, Scandinavian, and African American spiritual traditions) to whatever we’re calling Kesha’s “Joyride” — electro-polka-pop?
CGMC performing Bierschenk’s arrangement of “Boundless Light” in 2024
David: Arrangements can go in so many different directions, depending on who is doing them, and what sound they’re going for. Tell me a bit about your process of arranging, or your philosophy doing so.
Mike: Even for songs I know well, I first listen to the song on repeat an absurd number of times. I’m trying to understand on an intimate level what makes the song tick, and I’m listening for places where I can make the arrangement unique and interesting without betraying any of the elements that make the song itself. Sometimes it’s fairly straightforward, especially when the original song is vocal-forward with simple instrumentation: take the melody, add harmony to give richness, tada!
But I love it when it’s harder to figure out. Kesha’s “Joyride,” for example, has a lot of unusual vocal effects, and the primary instrumentation is this frenetic accordion part. Great song, but not really one you listen to and think, “What a great song for a choir!” I had to figure out how to layer angular violin and piano parts to get the vibe right without an accordion, and for the vocals I had to decide where I could bring in the full, rich choral sound I love writing, and where I should juxtapose it with a more exposed melodic line. (Not to mention figuring out how to notate some of Kesha’s weirder vocals, which are so core to the song’s identity.)
Or in a rather different style, I recently arranged Laura Mvula’s “Sing to the Moon” for Vox — it’ll be in our October concert. My favorite version of that song features a 52-piece jazz orchestra and I wanted to recreate that richness, which is a fairly tall order. I’m fortunate that the piece is for Vox, who often sing rather difficult repertoire, because the final version is entirely unaccompanied, with eight-part harmony — I needed every last one of those parts to match the lush extended chords that make Mvula’s recording so entrancing.
Philosophically, my first allegiance is to singers. As a choral arranger, you’re looking at the big picture, thinking of the choir almost as a unified instrument, and it’s easy to lose sight of the individual singer’s experience. Experienced choir kids know what I’m talking about: arrangements that sound great to the audience, but you’re just singing the same two notes the whole time, or maybe your part makes no sense because it’s all the leftover notes. And I get it! Sometimes as an arranger you need that pedal point, or you just need somebody to sing these notes even if they’re weird. But I’ve been singing 10 times longer than I’ve been arranging, and I want to give every singer a line that not only makes sense, but feels rewarding and beautiful as you perform it.
David: What did you arrange for 35-n-Thrivin’? What can we look forward to in this concert?
Mike: Two very different pieces. The first is Chappell Roan’s “Pink Pony Club,” which… everyone knows this song, right? It’s power pop, it’s melodrama, it’s a love song to the places where we can be joyfully ourselves. I consciously leaned into the melodrama, and you’ll hear us drop down to whispery softness and rise up to big gang-vocal choruses multiple times in less than four minutes. (And we’ve got another trick or two up our sleeves for the performance, but: no spoilers.)
The other piece seems nearly opposite at first glance: it’s an old blues number from the 1930s, Lucille Bogan’s “B.D. Woman’s Blues,” I just love it. Bogan recorded it 85 years before Chappell’s song came out and it’s just vocals and shuffle piano doing the 12-bar blues, and yet it’s got the same energy, proudly celebrating butch women who love women and “ain’ gon’ need no men.” Lucille died in 1948, but I hope some bit of her spirit’s still hanging around to see a big queer chorus exuberantly singing her words, because I think she’ll be tickled pink.
David: What do you love most about Columbus? What are some of your favorite things to do here?
Mike: There’s so much going on! I love going to performances, readings and exhibitions, and only wish that I had more time in my schedule because I just can’t get to everything. Musicians and musical organizations, actors and theater companies, artists and artisans, poets and writers, dancers and dance companies: you name it, from tiny independents to big heavy hitters, we’ve got it here and they’re absolutely crushing it. And the community supports them! I love a Columbus audience: enthusiastic, supportive and eager to enjoy themselves.
CGMC’s performances of 35-n-Thrivin’ will be held on June 28-29 at the Riffe Center’s Davidson Theatre.
This article is part of a bi-weekly column brought to you by the Greater Columbus Arts Council as part of the Art Makes Columbus campaign. Explore a calendar of events, public art database and artist stories at columbusmakesart.com. To learn more about GCAC grants visit gcac.org.