Gifts

The other evening the Nameless Cynic and I were watching a rental of The Secret Policeman's Other Ball from 1981. If you're not familiar with the Secret Policeman's Balls, they are a group of performances in England, going back to 1976, that raise money for Amnesty International. Anyway, Sting came on to perform Message in a Bottle. Now, I willingly admit that I am not much of a Sting fan. I don't care for his voice, and I find him to be pretentious. But, I do appreciate his talent and also admit that he's probably brilliant. This particular song was the first hit by The Police in 1979, and yet, here was Sting going solo. Just him and his electric guitar. I liked it, sort of.

I still don't care for his voice, I find the tone to be flat and uninteresting. Here's where things get a little confusing, and I'm trying desperately to find better words. I don't think that his intonation is flat, he's singing the pitch just fine. It's his focus that I find flat, or horizontal, and that makes his voice too spread out and shapeless. A good tone is round and full, not flat and without form. 

But, back to his performance. I thought that without the rest of the band, he had more freedom to explore the nuances of the song. Suddenly, the words in the chorus: "I hope that someone gets my," repeated, each time softer and more plaintively, were interesting and touched me. At times he is wailing in his despair, and I thought that, too, was very effective, going along with my conviction that we don't always want to make beautiful sounds. If the emotion isn't beautiful, then the voice should reflect that.

And now, before I go any further, here's that performance for you to enjoy. Take your time, I'll wait.

Wow, you were gone a long time. I was getting worried. But, now that you're back, let me talk about the things that I didn't like. 

About half way through the song, I noticed what he was wearing. I know that rock stars have a different image to project than opera singers. But, some of the other performers were wearing suits, or at least nicer clothes than an olive-drab uniform. Perhaps he was making some statement, but I was reminded of how we were taught to dress for a performance in Master Class in college. What you wear tells your audience what you think of them; were they worth the effort of dressing well or not? The message that I got from Sting was that they were not. And this message was really driven home at the end of his performance. 

Go back to the video at 4:00 and play til the end again. It's just a few seconds, won't take long at all. I won't go on till you get back.

Good. So, here's what I saw. He plays the last few licks on the guitar (a Stratocaster, if you're curious) and without waiting for the notes to die away, he says "Thank you." The audience obediently applauds, and without acknowledging their appreciation, he unplugs his instrument and walks off-stage. I was insulted, even watching this on video 31 years later. 

Here's one way to look at this. When we perform, whether on piano, guitar, voice, whatever your instrument may be, once that music has left you, it no longer belongs to you. It is now the property of the listener, and their experience of the music should not be deminished. 

Let's try it this way: someone gives you a gift. It's wrapped in lovely paper that just makes you excited to see what's inside. (Whether you're one who carefully opens the paper so as not to damage it, or prefers to rip it open, doesn't really matter in this analogy.) You open the box, and there inside is a wonderful gift, it's exactly what you wanted. You look up to thank the person, but they have already walked off, and all you can see is their back. 

That's what Sting did. Except, he made it even worse. He said, "Thank you." before the music had even finished. After that performance, there should have been a moment of silence as the final echo died away just before the audience burst into applause. But, he destroyed that moment of shared emotion. And then refused to allow them to thank him for the gift. All of this, the lack of pretty wrapping paper, the interrupting that glorious last echo, and then walking off, tells me that he wasn't performing for the audience. He was performing solely for himself. And I felt insulted. It was a if while you are gasping at the gift you've been given, getting the breath to express you're gratitude, the giver walks off. 

I want to take the gift analogy a little further. When someone gives you that wonderful gift, and you start to thank them, how would you feel if they interrupted you, and started explaining how it wasn't what they had planned on getting you, but the store was out and they had to get you THIS instead. Suddenly your joy in what you had thought was the perfect gift has gone, and you are probably feeling let down, and maybe cheated just a bit. 

This is the same thing that happens after a performance, if you make a face while the audience is applauding, or later tell one of them about all the wrong notes you hit, how you flubbed the phrasing in the second verse, or any of the multitude of things that went wrong. Remember, once the music leaves you, it belongs to the audience. Don't detract from their experience by belittling it. Let them enjoy the gift.

I've been doing some research into Christmas music, and I must say, there is a lot of it out there. Some lists have White Christmas (here done by the Drifters) as the top Christmas song. Others place Happy Xmas (War is Over) the John Lennon song at the top. (The link will take you to Melissa Etheridge's version, just to mix things up a little.) 

And so I've been thinking about what might be my favorite song of the season. When I was a kid, I remember that we had a copy of the Bing Crosby Christmas album that had White Christmas on it. (If you've just got to have the Bingo singing it!) We lived in Laramie, Wyoming at the time, and the idea that Christmas might not have snow seemed very strange to me. And then I found out that the album (an ancient way of recording music onto actual vinyl!) didn't belong to my parents. It was my older brother's. I was shocked. Hal was into Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention at the time. No way he could even have liked Bing Crosby. But he did. We all have our odd little quirks.

And while I do like the song, it's not my personal favorite song of the season. You know, that one song that makes you smile, and maybe get a little teary as it reminds you of Christmas and the tang of snow on the air, cookies baking in the oven, a fire roaring in the hearth. 

Hmm. . . thinking of Bing, there is that duet he did with David Bowie. This goes all the way back to 1977. Crosby had died just that October, this was filmed about a month before that. I remember being surprised to see that Bowie was going to be on Bing Crosby's Christmas special, and watched it just to see what would happen when Ziggy Stardust met Father O'Malley. And what we got was this lovely little duet. I've never really liked The Little Drummer Boy but this turned it into something special. 

Thinking back that far takes me to 1978 and the Star Wars Holiday Special. If you've never heard of it, you really should check out YouTube, where you can find pretty much the whole thing (some people refer to it as the Star Wars Christmas Special - those people are fools). I still get all warm and fuzzy when I think of this scene. (Can you hear the sarcasm dripping off the keyboard?) (The song is over by 3:15. The rest is made up of video clips and a heartwarming scene of Chewbacca at home with his family.)

Another favorite of mine has always been Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow! And after an exhaustive (10 minute) search, I found this version. Normally, I love these tenors both separately and combined. But, they kind of lost their collective minds when it came to song selections for this concert. They even did the aforementioned Happy Christmas. What a train wreck. And, I'm not saying that their version of Let it Snow is good, but it is pretty funny. Domingo is the only one with any idea of how to lighten up for this type of music. 

A true favorite of mine is Silent Night. I think I will always remember the Christmas Eve service where I wanted this song to just have guitar accompaniment. (Check out why from Wikipedia.) I'd somehow forgotten that all of the church lights would be turned out, and that myself and the other guitarist would be playing in the dark. I do know all the verses to the song, but that night, I kept getting them mixed up: singing the first half of the 2nd verse combined with the second half of the 3rd verse, for example. The entire congregation, some 300 people, sang the wrong words right along with me. It was really difficult finding a soft, intimate version of Silent Night. Here's Celtic Woman.  

But, I must admit that none of these songs can make me have that warm, fuzzy, nostalgic feeling. What song does it for me? Snoopy's Christmas. Yup, you heard me. At the end, when the Baron is wishing Snoopy a "Merry Christmas, mein Friend," I even get a little teary-eyed. I know, of all the stupid songs, but this one is it. When I got the record with this song, (it's from 1967, I was 6) I must have played it over and over for 3 or 4 hours. Finally, before he went mad from the repetition, my brother bribed me with 3 Monkees albums and 1 album by Paul Revere and the Raiders to never play Snoopy's Christmas ever again when he was in the house. (I still have those albums.) And I still love Snoopy's Christmas. (I recently discovered that a lot of kids no longer know anything about Snoopy's career as a WWI fighter pilot in his Sopwith Camel doghouse. Or his vendetta against the Red Baron. If you need information, I guess this is as good a place to start as any: Snoopy's Christmas Wikipedia ) 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!

Happy Holidays!

Tomorrow is the winter recital/open house for my studio. It's the last night of Chanukah, I think. The winter Solstice is in a few days. Christmas is right after that, and then comes Kwanzaa, and let's not forget New Year. Busy time of year.

(When I was a girl, we spelled it "Hannukah," or "Chanukkah," or some other way. Now Google Calendar is spelling it like that up there. And none of them look right to me. Perhaps, since my new daughter-in-law is Jewish, I should learn at least a bissel.)

We used to have a huge collection of holiday music on CDs. A lot of it has gone away. I'm not sure where it's all gone, or how, but there it is. (Or isn't, as the case may be.) With this in mind, the Nameless Cynic got me a new holiday CD last week, introducing me to a new group: Straight No Chaser. Turns out, they're not a new group at all, having begun at Indiana University in 1996. (It's like me to be up with the current music.) They are a 10 member, male a cappella group. 

Let me just say that a cappella music is hard. Fun, but hard. Mirriam Webster defines it as singing without accompaniment. The phrase is Italian, meaning in the manner of the church, as church music used to be sung without accompaniment. But there is a lot more to it than that. You have to possess an excellent sense of pitch. If one member of the group goes even the tiniest bit sharp or flat, they can take everyone with them. Or, even worse, not take them, and then you can have people singing in slightly different keys. Nasty. And your rhythmic sense also has to be perfect. I've heard some a cappella groups that gradually get slower and slower. Not very interesting to listen to. The blend must be precise. No one voice should stand out, unless they are meant to, as in the lead part. But, the lead part keeps switching, making control essential. And blending isn't easy, either. (But, that's another blog.)

Apparently, Straight No Chaser became an internet sensation in 2006, when a video they had done in 1998 was posted on YouTube. Their version of The Twelve Days of Christmas is wonderful. {And I could fill an entire blog just on good versions of The Twelve Days of Christmas. Check out: John Denver and the Muppets (I still want to add bah-dum-bum-bum after "Fi-i-ive golden rings.")} Here's the Straight No Chaser version. 

But this is not what has made me a fan. (I only just discovered it today.) What hooked me was their Christmas Can-Can. Yup, The Christmas Can-Can. I would imagine that you, like me, had no idea that there was such a thing. The Can-Can is a dance traditionally performed by a group of female dancers in a straight line, and involves them doing a high kick. The music is also traditionally Orpheus in the Underworld by Jacques Offenbach. But there is a Christmas version. And here it is. 

And now I have pesto bread and a Buche de Noel to make for the recital tomorrow. Happy holidays!

Storytime

 A long time ago, (1998 or '99) in a land far, far away (Cheyenne, WY) there lived a little boy. OK, even then Chris wasn't so little. He was in 2nd or 3rd grade, I honestly don't remember which. It was December. I know that because the assignment in his music class was to come the next week prepared to sing your favorite Christmas song. No other clarifiers. She told a group of 9 -10 year old kids to come prepared to sing their favorite Christmas song. It reminds me of when my 5th grade teacher told us to write limericks. There were a lot of little boys who did not have their limerick read out to the class. 
Hmm . . . I wonder why?

Anyway, Chris' favorite Christmas song at the time was Weird Al's The Night Santa Went Crazy. If you are not familiar with the song, here it is. And even if you are, this is worth a look. I like the stop-motion, he made Weird Al look like Burl Ives in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. And the laughter at the end is added, it's not in the original, but I do like the touch.

So, Chris came home really excited: he was going to get to sing the song for class. I was a little worried. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was counting on more main-stream songs like  Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Jingle Bells, or Hark, the Herald Angels Sing. 

As I helped Chris with memorizing the song, I did warn him that this was probably not the type of song his teacher was looking for. I suggested other songs. He was quite determined. Anyone who knows him now will not find it hard to believe that he could be determined even at that age. 

So he hearsed, and rehearsed. Being my son, he could sing the song, a capella, without changing key or losing the rhythm. I was very proud of how hard he'd worked. (If you think that's easy - try it. Find a song you like, time how long it lasts, then sing it without the accompaniment. See if it still lasts that long, and if you haven't transposed it somewhere along the line. Most people do.)

Finally, the day came for him to sing his song. I told him that I wanted him to clearly announce the name of the song and that it was by Weird Al. I warned him that his teacher might not let him sing, or she might interrupt him. After all, the song lasts about 4 minutes! He was not to get angry or hurt. He knew that I was a little concerned that his teacher might not appreciate Weird Al. 

Shortly after lunch, I got the phone call that parents dread: the school secretary calling to have me come and get my son. He was being suspended for the rest of the day. I rushed to the school, imagining blood and guts. Hands shaking, I got to the school, and walked into the office. I saw my son, sitting on a bench, looking at his shoes. I started over to talk to him, but we were both immediately ushered into the principal's office. In law, the accused has the opportunity to consult with their counsel. We were not granted that basic right. 

The principal was an imposing, white-haired woman. She scared me; I can only imagine how she terrified the kids. She allowed me to sit, but there was no place for Chris, he had to stand. I was thinking, This must be bad. I hope we can afford the legal fees. Then she spoke. "Your son sung a completely inappropriate song in music class today." I wanted to start giggling. They called me to the school for this?!?!? Weird Al? Really?

She went on for a few minutes, while I sat there, trying to hold in my amazement. Finally, when I could get a word in, I promised that I would deal with this in the manner that it deserved. She seemed to be happy with that. I can only hope that she didn't pay attention to what I really said. 

I managed to hold in my laughter until we got to the parking lot. I did ask Chris if he'd done as I'd told him. Yup, he'd announced the name of the song and that it was by Weird Al. I asked if she had ever tried to interrupt him. No. She let him sing the entire almost 4 minute song before sending the kid to the office. What a twit. 

I told Chris that sometimes even people in authority can make stupid mistakes. This is a life lesson that we all learn at some point. I felt badly that he had to learn it so young. We talked about that and a lot of other things as we ate our hot fudge sundaes. 

Good thing this hadn't happened the next year. By then his favorite Christmas song was Walkin' Round in Women's Underwear! 

Wedding Music

My older son got married last weekend. They are calling it an "elopement." My daughter is calling it a "flash-mob wedding." I didn't know that an elopement could include family members at the ceremony, and I would have thought that at a flash-mob wedding, everyone would simultaneously have gotten married. I'm not quite sure what I would call it, but I now have a daughter-in-law, and am very happy about the whole thing. 

It was a very short ceremony at the local botanical gardens. There was no music. There really wasn't time for any, and that was fine. But it got me to thinking about weddings and music. 

If you want to get technical about it, I've had several weddings, myself. The first was to my ex-husband of many years. My brother played the guitar and sang  And I Love Her, and Here There and Everywhere. (For those of you who may not know, those are both Beatles songs.) (At the rehearsal, we recessed to The House of the Rising Sun.) It was lovely. It was not, however, free. He presented me with the bill, for several thousand dollars, and then wrote "PAID IN FULL" across it as a wedding gift. 

The next wedding, to my second (and current) husband of almost 25 years, had a medieval theme. For my processional, since it was an outdoor wedding, and my matron of honor was one of my musicians, I had a brass windchime hanging from the bottom of my bouquet (my daughter feels that you need to understand that this was the 1980s. I have no idea what that has to do with anything). 

I had arranged Heinrich Schutz' Wedding Song for autoharp,  two recorders and two soprani (that is the REAL plural of soprano, although wiki.answers says that it is the pretentious form;  I am not pretentious... OK, maybe a little).  However, one of the soprano's workplace filed for bankruptcy a week before the ceremony, and she had to cancel. One of my recorder players had something happen, and couldn't play. I ended up singing with the other musicians. Did I pay the others? No. They were all friends, and offered their services as their gifts to me. Some people think it was kind of tacky that I sang at my own wedding. Others think it made the ceremony even more special. I thought it was wonderful, if a little more stressful than I'd planned.

The last wedding was when the Nameless Cynic and I renewed our vows. I was the music director for the church, and was able to get another soprano, flute, violin, cello and contrabass to perform the Schutz Wedding Song. I did plan on singing this time. No one had to cancel, and since they were all friends, once again this was their gift to me. (It's good to have friends!)

My daughter has already told me that I am having absolutely no say in the music when she gets married. And I won't be singing. That's OK by me. I'm going to have enough to do, what with crying, and letting Bill hold my hand. (Our younger son has not yet made any plans that we know of.)

All of this brings me to wedding music in general. A quick search on the Interwebs has shown me that, while there are still a lot of musicians offering their services for weddings, there are a lot of ceremonies going on without live music. I know that it has been years since I sang for a wedding. One minister reported that out of over 225 weddings where she officiated, less than 40 had live music. Several sites offered CDs specifically tailored to your wants. I think I am horrified. (Why am I not sure if I'm horrified or not? Well, there are so many other things out there to be truly horrified over. I'm not sure this one really ranks that far up on the list.)

But it is definitely a loss. And not just in revenue for the poor musicians out there eking out a living. It's a loss for the bride and groom. Yes, you can have a CD played that will provide flawless professional music. But really, who wants that? 

No, stay with me for a moment. Isn't it better to have a professional musician, who can honestly tailor the music to what you need. Example? I sang the processional for a wedding. Yes, the processional was sung. It was a Lutheran wedding and the song the couple wanted was currently popular, and not at all sacred. This pastor refused to allow secular music to be a part of the service. But, the processional was actually before the ceremony, so the song was allowed. And since it was very long - 12 pages! - the idea was that everyone, including the pastor and the groomsmen would process during the song. I thought it was a good compromise. Or it seemed to be one at the time. 

Here's what happened. 

As we timed out the procession, it came out that he needed to start walking at the bridge in the song. (A bridge is a middle section that has a different pattern than the rest of the song: it bridges from one section to another.) I suggested that he could listen for the bridge and start walking. Since he was a member of that church's choir and could read music, this didn't seem like I was asking for too much. He didn't like that idea. HE wanted me to signal him by nodding when it was time for him to start walking. (Raise your hand if you see problems with this!) But it worked fine at the rehearsal. 

So, the next day, I stood up at the front of the church. The pastor and the rest of the wedding party are standing at the back. The pianist starts playing, and as I start to sing, I notice that the pastor is happily talking to the groom, and is paying absolutely no attention to where I am in the song. Playing the piano behind me, the accompanist is happily throwing pages of the song onto the floor when we are done with them. Did I mention the song was 12 pages long? We get to the bridge. I nod my head. The pastor keeps on happily talking to the groom. A page of music hits the floor behind me. I continue to nod my head. Another page hits the floor. I'm beginning to feel like one of those nodding dogs you used to see at the back window on cars. I can hear the soft whooshing sound of yet another page hitting the floor, and another, and another. Finally, I catch the pastor's eye. He smiles at me, nods his head, and goes back to talking to the groom. I'm starting to sweat. And I DON"T sweat. (Literally, I don't. It's something genetic.) 

Finally, as we are beginning the last page of the song, the pastor begins the procession. I skipped the very end and jumped back to the beginning of the bridge. My accompanist, being very good, quickly realized that I wasn't finishing the song, but she had no idea what was going on. Where they had the piano situated, she couldn't see the aisle, and so didn't know that we were in trouble. And, to make life even more interesting, all of the music was now on the floor, scattered around the piano. 

I sang about two pages a capella while she was on her hands and knees, frantically gathering the music, putting it in order and figuring out where I was. She got back on the bench and joined in where I was at the moment. Thank goodness I have very good pitch sense, and hadn't accidentally changed keys, or things would have been even more interesting. We finished the song just as the bride's father put her hand onto the groom's. 

Now, if that song had been performed by the original singer on a CD, what would have happened in this instance? The song would have finished and the procession would have happened in silence. There would have been no rhythm keeping the bride and her father in step together. One of the bridesmaids might have gotten flustered and all but raced down the aisle in her hurry to get there without falling. (Don't laugh, I've seen both of these things.) By having live performers there, we were able to somehow roll with the flow. 

Or, there was the wedding where the groom passed out. Twice. The pianist and I were able to cut some music short - when it looked like he was going to keel over again, or add to the list - when the best man was splashing water on the groom's face in an effort to bring him around. With a CD this would not have been possible. 

Not everything that makes live music at a wedding desirable is covering up for problems. Sometimes, I have looked at the bride and groom lighting the unity candle, and realized that I needed to slow the song down a little bit, to allow them to savor the moment. Or, looking at the bride's mother beaming with pleasure as she cries into her handkerchief, I find that I'm singing the Ave Maria with a slightly different emphasis. What I'm trying to make clear is that a live performer can respond and be in the moment in a way a recording can never be.

I want to end with a brief rant about a song that one of the custom CD sites felt was the best classical song to include on their CD for your wedding: Quando me'n vo', otherwise known as Musetta's Waltz. While you listen to the lovely Anna Moffo's version, read thru this translation, and decide for yourself if it's appropriate for your wedding.

When I walk

When I walk alone in the street

People stop and stare at me

And everyone looks at my beauty,

Looks at me

From head to foot.

And then I relish the sly yearning

Which escapes from their eyes

And which is able to perceive

My most hidden beauties.

Thus the scent of desire is all around me,

And it makes me happy!

And you who know, who remember and yearn,

You shrink from me?

I know it very well:

You do not want to express your anguish,

I know so well that you do not want to express it

but you feel as if you are dying!

Yeah, that's the perfect wedding song, isn't it? (And, yes, professional musicians may be more expensive than your second cousin, or the CD, but we are worth it!)

All Good Gifts

Today is Thanksgiving; a day for giving thanks for what we have, and not kvetching about what we might not have. 

I am thankful for my family: twins, Nicole and Luke; and their significant others, Jay and Beka; my youngest, Christopher. My wonderful husband, Bill. I am thankful that I am able to contribute to the roof over our heads with my music. I am thankful for friends and extended family. 

I want to share one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite Broadway musicals. This is All Good Gifts from Godspell. (This was Stephen Schwartz' first musical - he later gave us Pippen and Wicked, among others) This is from the 10th anniversary reunion show with the original cast. You get the parable leading up to the song, so don't turn away because the music hasn't started at the beginning.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving Songs?

So, last week I ranted a bit about background music. I don't like background music, for the simple reason that I don't find it to be in the background. I hum along with the muzak at the grocery, in elevators, at the fabric store, wherever. Music is never in the background for me. (Do you think that being a musician has anything to do with that?)

Anyway, I complained about the presence of Christmas music in the stores just after Halloween. I still contend that this is a cynical ploy on the part of the management to make us feel in the Christmas spirit and spend more money. And I'm sure that for some people it works. Me, it just annoys and makes me want to shop on-line. No background music at home.

But, I got to thinking: why can't they play Thanksgiving Music? Grocery stores could start piping in all the lovely Thanksgiving carols and make us buy bigger turkeys and more stuffing mix (for those out there who don't make their own cornbread!) Hmm. . . Thanksgiving Music. Is there any?

Over the River and Through the Woods  This is the first song that occurs to me. I'd hoped to find a better version of it than this one, but sadly, many of them turn it into a Christmas song.  In giving this song to one of my students, she argued that even though it mentions Thanksgiving Day, it has to be a Christmas song because of the snow. Here in Albuquerque, we don't see that much snow on Thanksgiving. We don't see that much snow on Christmas, either, but in her mind snow equates Christmas, not Thanksgiving. But, in other parts of the country, there is snow for Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and New Years, and Valentine's Day, and even Easter. Oh, yeah, and it's usually snowing in those places before Halloween. (Trick or treating in the snow - what memories!)

Of course, there are many hymns that qualify as Thanksgiving songs: Come, Ye Thankful People Come, We Gather Together, and Give Thanks;  lovely songs all, but not what I'm looking for. I want to deal with secular music right now. 

I found an interesting number performed by Johnny Cash, Thanksgiving/I Thank You. Johnny's not wearing his usual black, but wearing overalls.  But, still, the song is overwhelmingly sacred. He may do some of his best singing on the chorus. I've always had a sneaking fondness for the "man in black" but, I've never thought he was a good singer.

I found Mary Chapin Carpenter's Thanksgiving Song. Wow. Where to start with this one? I'm sure that this song means a great deal to someone out there, but not me. The lyrics seem to consist of a list of things to be thankful for:  no real point, just a list. But the lyrics are brilliant compared to the stultifyingly boring melody. There seem to be only 4 notes in the whole song! (OK, I know there are several more, but that's how it seems to me.)  And the tempo . . . it's definitely not what we would call up-beat.

There's Natalie Merchant's Kind and Generous. Once more, I'm at a loss. I'm not familiar with Ms Merchant's other works. And this (follow the link) is at the end of a concert, and live, so perhaps she was tired and her voice was shot. I'll be generous and hope that was the issue, because there are a LOT of notes that she almost hit. (And if I'm feeling generous, perhaps she should be thankful.) Most of them were just enough under the tone that you could tell what note she meant to sing. Painful. And then there are her lyrics. She's not just rambling off a list of things to be thankful for;  she's apparently thanking a specific person for services rendered. But she runs out of lyrics before the song is even half over; she just keeps repeating herself. I got kind of bored. At least the song is upbeat, unlike Ms Carpenter's opus.

(You may notice, I'm not giving you a whole lot of videos, just links. That's because there haven't been any songs that I've liked yet. The only reason I gave you the video to Over the River is because it gave you the lyrics as proof that it's a Thanksgiving song.)

Natalie Cole did a song called, Be Thankful. Once again, I'm not a big Natalie Cole fan. I've always thought that she was riding on her father's coat-tails. (Nat King Cole, if you're too young to remember. If you don't, look him up on YouTube. Voice like velvet, so warm and smooth.) I will say that this song is upbeat, but it struck me a being somewhat shrill. (That could also be the headache that our weather has brought on.) But, I didn't like it. 

And, still in the realm of songs I don't like, I give you the link to Adam Sandler's Thanksgiving Song. I REALLY don't like this one. I only mention it because the title does lead one to think it's a song about Thanksgiving.  And it is.  I just really don't like it. The content is often rude, but my biggest dislike is reserved for his singing. Or screeching. I only like him on occasion: the Wedding Singer and Happy Gilmore. That's about all that come to mind. And in the Wedding Singer he proved that he CAN sing. To an extent. So, I get even more angry with what he does the rest of the time. . . 

But enough of that rant.

Hmm, are there any good Thanksgiving Songs? There have to be some. But, we may have to get a little tricky here. Let's start with Louis Armstrong. How can I complain about Adam Sandler's singing and yet enjoy Satchmo's? That's a good question. For one thing, Satchmo is a part of my childhood. He died in 1971, when I was 10. And I remember seeing him in movies like Hello, Dolly, and on TV, and the whole family liked to listen to his trumpet. I think it has to do also with his enthusiasm and his heart being in the music. It's there for all the world to see, with nothing held back. Compare that to Mr. Sandler just trying to be funny. What a wonderful world.

No mention is given of being thankful for these things, and like Ms Carpenter's song, a lot of it is just a list. But the emotion here (and the fact that I think it's a better song) make all the difference. I just wish he'd played that trumpet in his hand.

If we expand giving thanks to thanking someone, not a big leap, then we can have Bette Midler and The Wind Beneath my Wings. The Nameless Cynic does not understand why I like the Divine Miss M, but a lot of it, once again, has to do with the emotion poured into her singing, with nothing held back. This song was horribly overplayed when it first came out, but it's been awhile, and so I can like it again.

These are a few Pop songs. What about Broadway? Does no one there have anything to be thankful for? 

The first Broadway song that comes to mind actually breaks my own ban on sacred music. It's from Godspell, but that's another blog. (Stay tuned!)

The next song, though, doesn't break my own ban. Irving Berlin, an icon of American music, wrote the score of "Annie, Get Your Gun."  I sang some of the music from this with the Cheyenne Symphony when we lived there. And while I had fun, it's not my usual style. And I may annoy some Bernadette Peters fans, I actually prefer Reba McEntire. I think the country sound fits this part. And this song is about being thankful for what we have. (Although, the evening gowns and tuxes imply that they still have quite a bit!)

I'm saving my favorite Thanksgiving song for Turkey Day, itself. In the meantime, what are your favorite Thanksgiving songs?

Will you just listen?

"Listen my children and you shall hear. . . " 

"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!" 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and William Shakespeare were both talking about listening. In the Harry Dresden books, Jim Butcher introduces the concept of Listening (capital L) which he's not sure is a magical gift, or just a form of intense concentration. 

We went to a fabric store last weekend, and they were already piping in Christmas music. It started with a Celine Dion Christmas song. About three songs later was Paul McCartney's Wonderful Christmas Time. Now, as you may (or may not) have noticed, I am a huge McCartney fan. But I don't want to listen to Christmas music in the first week of November; I get annoyed by things like that. I wanted to leave. My husband (the Nameless Cynic) actually complained. The worker had no idea, having tuned the music out ages ago.

This was an example of the crime that background music has become:  it's used as a subliminal marketing ploy to tempt us to spend more money. It's used as white noise to block out the world, or sometimes to block out our own thoughts. It blasts through us, leaving very little memory of what we've heard. It's become ubiquitous: nowhere can you escape its nefarious sound.

Do you get the feeling that I dislike background music? For me, there is no background music.  I almost always notice it, and almost always find it distracting. I prefer silence.  

The Merriam-Webster dictionary gives three definitions for this intransitive verb "listen." 1) to pay attention to sound, 2) to hear something with thoughtful attention, and 3) to be alert to catch an unexpected sound. Various websites give anywhere from four to twenty-five different forms of "listening." Depending on whom you listen to, this type of listening is either "casual" or "inactive." In any case, no communication is accomplished, and the mind is not involved. That's what background music receives: the "in one ear and out the other" type of listening. 

Then there are amplified, ensemble-based concerts. You can call them rock concerts, jazz concerts, things along those lines. There might be thousands of people in the audience, and the music, though it might have a lead performer, will be ensemble based. 

I'm thinking of the Bob Seger concert I went to. Or Styx, Frampton, Cher. A different type of listening goes on here. I tend to wear earplugs when I go to these, wanting to protect my hearing, but I still listen. The mind is more engaged. The music is the purpose for the gathering, instead of just drifting through the air, ignored. Of course, we've also paid a lot of money to be there, so we WILL enjoy ourselves! But there's also a lot more going on. There's the spectacle (and let me tell you, Cher puts on quite an impressive spectacle).  There is also the emotional intensity of the crowd around you, that catches you up and brings on an adrenaline high.  

But, while your mind is actively engaged and you are enjoying yourself, at no moment does time stop to appreciate one perfect note. (Or at least it hasn't yet for me. But I'm also not a rock musician.) Time flies, certainly, because I'm having fun. But time doesn't stop, even if Cher can turn it back. I guess this would be a form of appreciative listening. Listening to be entertained, but with little critical intent.

At smaller concerts featuring acoustic, un-amplified performers, that's when time can stop. I'm thinking classical guitarists, and of course singers. Moments when you're listening so intently, and that one perfect note happens. 

Time stops. Nothing else in the world matters but that note. It is ineffably beautiful. 

I get goosebumbs just thinking about the times I've experienced that.  Frederica von Stade achieved that, singing Send in the Clowns. And to be honest, I think Send in the Clowns is a stupid song: it has the verses in the wrong order, and so it doesn't really make much sense. But when she sang it, it moved me.

This type of listening has a bit more discernment. Not only are you listening to enjoy (and once more, you probably forked over a lot of money to be there). But you are also expecting a very high level of artistry. And although I love Cher, I don't expect that level from her. This is not at all about the spectacle, and is all about the music. You expect each note to be flawless, and you look forward to those rare, perfect notes. (Yes, there is a difference between flawless and perfect. Somehow, perfect goes beyond flawless. I really can't explain it. Sorry.)

And then we have critical listening. In this type of listening, you can still experience those perfect notes, but the intent is not just to appreciate the beauty of the music, but to try and discern the technique that lies underneath the art. While I'm sure that this can apply to all instruments, I'm going to focus on the voice. That is the instrument I know best, after all! 

This is the type of listening that I want my students to acquire. And, I find this works best with recordings. It's easier to back up a recording and listen again. Singers get upset when you interrupt their song, and they get really cranky when you ask them to sing that note over and over so that you can figure out how they are doing it. 

Don't know why. Seems unreasonable of  them, but there you have it. Recordings are probably best for this. Sometimes it's best to close your eyes and really focus. Although, with YouTube, you can see them and try to analyse what they are doing physically. I even imagine my muscles going through the motions with them. (This harkens back to my blog on Proper Focus and visualization.)

As with so much of singing, it's hard to explain how to do this. I would start with a song or aria that you have printed music for. Listen to the song several times, paying attention to where they breathe. Do you like their choices in this? Do you think that a breath in a different part of the phrase would make more sense? Make notes on your music. (USE PENCIL! You may end up changing your mind, and if you've written in pen, you are doomed. Doomed, I tell you!)  

Practice the song at this point, trying to incorporate these ideas. This is where you may find that some of the places where they took a breath just don't work for you. 

Then start to notice their dynamics: where they get louder or softer, where they sped up or slowed down, where they got more or less intense. Do you agree with their choices? Once again, mark these in your music! If you don't write them down, you will forget them. Then go back to the keyboard, and practice again. 

Do you like how they are sounding on a particular note? Play that note over and over again. Try to hear how they are reaching it. Is the note placed forward? What vowel sound are they really singing? (As opposed to how you would think the word should be pronounced.) Are they raising the soft palate? (Yes, once you've learned how to listen, you really can hear that.) Write these notes in your music! (It may be getting hard to actually read the music notation, but that's OK, because you should have the song memorized by now, having heard and sung it so many times!)

Are you getting the idea that this process will take a while? Good! Because it will. Does every song need this kind of care? NO! 

Are operatic arias the only songs that are deserving of this amount of care and effort? NO! There is a lot of lovely music out there that deserves this kind of treatment. Yes, a lot of them are operatic, but not all. And not everything operatic really deserves all this work, either. 

Isn't this cheating, stealing artistry from other people? Ooo, good question! Yes, if all that you did was to take their ideas and not add anything to them. But that's not the idea. You take their ideas, their artistry, and learn from them. Then you add your own soul into the mix, and make it yours. Students learning how to paint will often copy the masters to learn about brush strokes, or the use of light and dark. This is the same idea. 

You also have to be careful of whom you listen to. for example, Pink might not be the best singing model. This is also a part of developing a discerning ear: learning whom you can learn from. 

Sometimes you might learn how not to do something. That can be important, too. Sarah Brightman can teach us a lot on how not to breathe. Cecilia Bartoli can teach a lot on how not to move your face. 

(Really. That's her over to the right. Just try and watch the woman without wanting to laugh at some point: I dare you. Sometimes, a bad example is the best example.)

You might have noticed that I haven't supplied you with any background music for this blog, as I sometimes to. A deliberate choice on my part. I will give you a closing video. Montserrat Caballe singing O mio babbino caro from Puccini's Gianni Schicchi, from 1990. 

Some critical comments first: Wow, but that woman's big! I'm sure that her health and voice were suffering because of all the excess weight. Her breath control certainly is suffering, some of the phrases in the early part of the aria are a little odd. BUT - her high notes are things of pure beauty. How does she do them? I'm still working on that one. Listen to how she hits them and then backs off the volume, making the notes just hang in the air. From the context, I gather that this is an encore. She tells the audience what the aria is, and assures them that it's not long but brief. 

Tommy, can you hear me?

Naked people have little or no influence in society. (Mark Twain)

This week I started rehearsing for an Opera Unlimited production, Mozart & Company. If you don't know, Opera Unlimited is a non-profit organization that brings operas into the elementary schools all over New Mexico. Our operas are always in English, and never last longer than 40 minutes. (They have to fit in a class period.) Often, we are the only opera these children have ever seen, and frequently the only live performance they've been exposed to.

Anyway, Mozart & Co is being relaunched. We ran it several years ago, and are hoping to perform it again this school year. Unlike our other productions: Hansel & Gretel,  Little Red Riding Hood, and Cinderella, Mozart doesn't tell a story. It's a series of operatic vignettes, bit and pieces from various operas. Mostly Mozart, but not all. 

One of my numbers is the Marcellina/Susanna duet from Le Nozze di Figaro ("The Marriage of Figaro"). I play Marcellina, the older lady, who is arguing with Susanna over who will go through a door first. Insults fly. We play it up a bit more, but this will give you an idea of what we do. (Don't try to understand it, unless you speak Italian; this one is not sung in English.)

Mozart & Co is a trunk show. This means that we don't have a set; costumes and props are minimal and are pulled out of bins that we have on stage. Our base costume is a pair of black pants, with a black t-shirt that has Mozart & Co in big white letters on the front, and we occasionally put additional costumes on top of that. 

I pulled the bins out of my garage, where they've been stored (the company has a storage unit, I've just been too lazy to drive there!) and looked over the costumes. They had been thrown together sort of at the last minute. Nothing was planned out, and they looked like it. So this week I've been sewing costumes. Again.

Costumes are a vital part of any production. They can set the mood of a scene, tell us about the characters, give us relationships, and make a company look good or look cheap. For the two women in the cast, I'm sewing a lot of skirts. How many is "a lot?" Two for the Marcellina/Susanna duet, one for Muzetta, and two more for The Merry Wives of Windsor scene. So, five. 

Each costume has several requirements: they must set the historic era, be colorful (we are performing for the K-5 crowd, after all), be durable, fit a wide variety of sizes (we have several people in our pool of players), and be easy to get on and off (costume changes are made while we're talking in front of the kids). Oh yeah, and since we're a non-profit, they need to be cheap.

That's quite a list of requirements, but not impossible. Actually, I think it's kind of fun. You see, I really do love to sew. It wasn't something that my mother taught me growing up: Dad bought me my first sewing machine and taught me how to use it. But he didn't know how to read a pattern, so my skills didn't really take off until college. 

I was a theater major at first: I tried to have a double major (theater and music), but it was a small school, and the music department consisted of only one person. He didn't like my dad. (Yes, this matters to the story. Dad was the head of the education department there, and so I had free tuition.) To make things even worse, he didn't like the theater department (which consisted of about 3 people). He told me that I had no talent and should get out of music. (You can see how well I listened to that jerk!) 

So, anyway, I was a theater major. And the faculty had the idea that we should learn how to do everything ourselves: acting, makeup, lights, set design and construction, and costumes. I even learned how to wire a light switch there. 

The first costume I ever made was a tunic made out of a beautiful red silk velvet. Velvet is supposed to be difficult to work with. It's possible that this was an example of the bumblebee principle (which says that aerodynamically, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly; the bumblebee, not knowing this, flies anyway*).  Because I didn't know that velvet was hard to work with, I didn't have any problems. 

Since that time, I've sewn with just about every fabric I can think of, and have tackled many an advanced project. Yes, I've also ripped out many, many seams and started over, but the finished product is usually pretty good. 

Today has been dedicated to working on a doublet for Sir John Falstaff for a scene from The Merry Wives of Windsor. (I tried to find a video of the scene that we do, and failed. Sorry.)

But I'm working with two lovely satin brocades: one is blue with gold, and the other is gold on gold. How can I work with such gorgeous fabrics on little to no budget? The answer is that I went to thrift stores, and bought draperies. We could never had afforded these luxurious textiles at a fabric store. But since I bought used window dressings, they are suddenly really cheap. Yes, I have to get a little creative with cutting out the pieces, but I love that kind of figuring and piecing. It's a challenge. (You'd think I'd be better at Tetris.)

As I said, this hasn't been about music this week.  But costumes add so much to any production, that I thought they deserved their own week. I keep hearing the music we're working on while I'm cutting, pinning, and sewing. I'll leave you with Susanna's dressing aria from Le Nozze di Figaro. When I sing this in Mozart and Company, I'm putting a clown costume on a little kid. (Like I said, we are playing to the K-5 crowd!)

__________________________

* If you are curious about how bumblebees fly, here you are - straight from the bees themselves. 

Final Halloween post (this year)

It's finally feeling a little bit like fall, here. We just turned the heater on, so the house smells a little burnt-dusty. Candies are ready for the trick-or-treaters. I wonder if we'll get any?

And, now for our final look this year at Halloween music. Last week was spent looking at some of my favorite animated music, today I'm going to look at some of my favorite live-action film music. And, like I did with the cartoons, I'm going to go all chronological on you. 

As I've looked at Halloween music this month, both here and on my FaceBook page, Puttin' on the Ritz was one of the songs I posted. This was the pop version, sung by Taco, an Indonesian-born Dutch singer who had a career in Germany. But, now I want to look at another version of the 1929 Irving Berlin masterpiece. Introduced in the 1930 film titled, Puttin' on the Ritz and has been recorded as a swing song, (duh!) Jazz, synthpop, heavy metal, and was even covered by Alvin & the Chipmunks. (Now, that's scary!) But the version that I love the most is the version that the Nameless Cynic will consent to sing with me. That's right, we rock it Young Franken-style! Young Frankenstein has been turned into a Broadway musical, and this scene now has parts for Igor and just about everybody, but I still love this one!

This brings us to either 1955 or 1988, depending on how you want to look at it, and Harry Belafonte singing Day-O (The Banana boat Song), which was reprised for Beetlejuice. Reading up on the movie, it went through a lot of changes before becoming the heart-warming classic that we all know and love. Tim Burton, the director, had originally wanted Sammy Davis, Jr, to be the title character. (That would have been a much different movie!) Harry Belefonte's music is a recurring theme in the movie, and this is my favorite.


If you were counting 1955 for the last song, then we are continuing to movie forward. If you were counting from the movie's release date, then we are experiencing some retrograde motion, as we find ourselves in 1984, for a song that the lead singer didn't even like. He is supposed to have refused to sing the title of the movie in the course of the theme song. Poor man. He did have his 15 minutes, but he is best remembered for this song. 

Which brings us to 1986 and Labyrinth, directed by Jim Hensen. This is my favorite song from the movie, and it was written and performed by David Bowie. 



I read that there were over 40 puppets in that scene, plus livestock and actors: it must have been incredibly complex to film, and remains my favorite scene. Well, except for the Escher-esque stairs scene, and the scene with Ludo, and the scene where. . . you get the idea: I love that movie!

(I used the scene from the movie here, but, since this was the mid-80s and MTV was incredibly popular, there were two official videos released, to capitalize on the fact that David Bowie was performing in large portions of the soundtrack: As the World Falls Down, from the ballroom scene, and Underground, which played over the closing credits.)

I thought I was done, and then I remembered one more song, this one from 1988's Practical Magic. Midnight Margaritas! I was surprised to find that this song actually entitled Coconut, was written and recorded by Harry Nilsson. While many of us comment or joke about the 3 or 4 chord rock song, this one has only 1 chord. (A C7th, if you care.) Now that's scary!

So, there you have it. None of it particularly frightening, not all of it particularly well-sung. But, I hope, fun.

Happy Halloween!