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!)