Attorney and social philosopher Owen Cash wrote to his friends:

“In this age of dictators and government control of everything, about the only privilege guaranteed by the Bill of Rights not in some way supervised and directed, is the art of Barber Shop Quartet singing.”

Without doubt we still have the right of “peaceable assembly,” which I am advised by competent legal authority includes quartet singing. The writer of this letter have for a long time thought that something should be done to encourage the enjoyment of this last remaining source of human liberty.

It was the spring of 1938 when Cash made the statement, one of bombast and somewhat whimsical intent. But in a time of international stress and technological change, Cash viewed readily identifiable foreign autocrats as threats to our freedom and the influence of broadcast radio and celebrity performers as a threat to amateur music-making. Some 80 years later, the threats still seem familiar, but barbershop quartet singing remains a viable activity.

I suppose singing is in my blood. My mother used to say that she’d rather sing than eat. But if singing is in my blood, it remained latent for much of my life. I sang a bit during my high school and college years. But then I took a 40-year hiatus, during which I rarely sang at all. Until I stumbled across the Flathead Valleyaires Men’s Barbershop Chorus at a community concert seven years ago.

I liked their sound, I liked their energy, and I liked their corny jokes. I signed up before I had much time to think about it. I’ll have to admit, though, that my concept of barbershop at the time was consistent with mainstream thinking about barbershop: a bunch of old geezers who get together to sing the old songs. I didn’t consider myself an old geezer, but I figured that day might come.

As it turned out, barbershop is more complicated than I’d thought. It is an unaccompanied, or a Cappella, style of singing. The barbershop sound is created solely by human voices. This means that in addition to using your voice, you need to develop an ear for pitch; there is no accompanying instrument serving as a pitch authority. And complex melodies and rhythms are sometimes sacrificed for the greater good of harmony, which is achieved by the accurate and timely production of a precise patterns of four notes. Barbershoppers strive to be more pitch-accurate than a piano. I knew something about harmony from college, at least as a concept. But I’d never studied it as an art form, lo almost a religion, which is how barbershoppers think of it.

Although Cash’s early plans appeared to be singing for fun, the genre almost immediately turned competitive. With competition came rules, including rules for arranging music. A limited number of chords, a strong preference for particular chord progressions, and an enforced homophonic style make barbershop a rigorously defined musical style. Competitions happen at various levels all year, every year. At the lowest levels, the sound is great. At the upper levels, it’s more a religious experience.

Barbershop occurs in two types of forms: quartet and chorus. In a quartet, each member is responsible for a part, all by himself (or herself). Each note must be perfect, or the whole doesn’t sound right. It’s in a quartet that the sound takes on those religious overtones. A chorus is more a training ground for quartets. A section leader has to sing a part accurately, as would be the case in a quartet. Ideally, everyone in the section would be as accurate as the section leader. In reality, though, many of the singers can’t read music and a number of them lean heavily on the section leader for the notes. But, fact of the matter is, when they sing together and listen to and follow the section leaders, the result sounds remarkably good.

There’s something very democratic about barbershop. Although a heavenly sound is the goal, accessibility is the mantra. Barbershop is very welcoming to all who want to sing, regardless of ability. As envisioned by Cash, it began as a men’s chorus. That didn’t last long, though, and although men’s and women’s choruses are usually segregated for reasons of vocal range and blend, both sexes are now welcome.

Like his mother, David Vale would usually rather sing than eat. The Flathead Valleyaires meet every Tuesday at 7 p.m. in the basement of the Epworth United Methodist Church, 329 Second Ave. E. in Kalispell. Visitors are always welcome.