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.
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!
Looking over my list of Halloween music, I realized that a lot of it is complete and unadulterated poop. I will admit that I enjoy some of the poop, but that doesn't mean that there is any vocal excellence in it. I love singing along with the "one eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater", but I'm not going to try and pretend that there is anything particularly memorable about the music. Lyrics, yes, but not the music or the singing. I was happy to note that some of the better music was from children's animations. Animation done for children - not animation done by children, if you get what I'm saying. Some of it is predates me. (Yes, Chris, there is animation that is older than I am. *sigh* )
The Silly Symphony cartoon series was begun by Walt Disney as a means to experiment with animation techniques. This was 1929, and TV hadn't even been thought of. "Talkies" (movies with synchronized sounds) had only been around (to the public) for two years. The first talkie, The Jazz Singer, remember, came out in October of 1927. The first Silly Symphony came out in August of 1929, and was made to be seen on the big screen, as a short before the main movie. The Skeleton Dance has since been used in all sorts of other films, including a brief cameo in the Ghost Rider movie (Johnny Blaze watches it on TV, not knowing that soon he, too. . . Really, it's there. I remember being one of the very few people laughing in the theater at the reference).
It really is fun. When you think that each frame had to be completely hand drawn. The level of artistry and creativity is amazing. And at the end of Star Wars, episode 6, when the ewoks are using stormtrooper helmets as musical instruments, it always makes me think of this cartoon. I wonder if the reference was intentional? While the music always reminds me of Saint-Saens Danse Macabre, the composer, Carl Stalling, said that it was actually a fox trot set in a minor key. He did admit to borrowing a little bit from Edvard Greig's The March of the Trolls. Bringing us a little closer to our own time, we now travel to 1949 and The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, which I was surprised to discover was the original title of the Disney version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. This was originally intended to be a feature length film, but they found that there just wasn't enough story, and decided that it needed to be linked up with another animated film. So, it was released in connection with a story from The Wind and the Willows about Mr. Toad. Narrated by Bing Crosby, this was always one of my favorites for gearing up for Halloween.
(I did notice that,in Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, along with a nod to the headless horseman chase scene - complete with pumpkin - Johnny Depp repeats Ichabod's problems with a tea cup as he's hearing about the horseman for the first time.) While I was born too late to remember Bing Crosby at his best, I've got to admit that his warm, smooth tones are soothing and comforting. What an instrument he had.
Now we jump forward to 1993, and one of my daughter's favorite movies: "This is Halloween" from Nightmare Before Christmas. In reading about this, I found out that movie critics have WAY too much time on their hands. While I'll go along with the thought that this movie is really about a CEO wanting to diversify, I draw the line at the Freudian conflicts between Sally and her creator. It's just a hop, skip and a jump to 1996 and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I thought so at the time (and I still think) that this was a horrible idea on the part of Disney. Yeah, let's take a classic story, in which all of the main characters die, and turn it into an upbeat kids' movie. And when we took our young children to see it (two ten year olds, and a six year old) I was a bit surprised at this song. Fortunately, they were too young to really understand what Frollo is singing about. Now that they're older, I think that this is one of the best villain songs that Disney has done. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Hellfire.
This song is such a departure from the usual Disney fare, that it has its own article in Wikipedia. Nowhere have I found anyone mention that the flame woman reminded them of several James Bond movie openings. Except me, right now. Because that was what I first thought of. I did find out that someone at Disney painstakingly went through this sequence to make sure that the woman was covered in every frame. (So, you don't need to go through your DVD on slo-mo. It won't do you any good.) Disney had to go to great lengths to keep this movie rated G. It deals with such issues as lust, infanticide, religious hypocrisy, hell, and social injustice, but all with bright cheerful music, just like this one. I did discover that Stephen Schwartz in collaboration with Alan Menken was responsible for the music. Stephen Schwartz has also given us Godspell and Wicked, among a long list of other Broadway and movie hits. And this brings us to our most recent entry: from 2009 - Friends on the Other Side from The Princess and the Frog. All the kids are now grown, but the Nameless Cynic and I rented this when it came out on DVD, and really enjoyed it. The music was written by Randy Newman, who wrote the music for Toy Story (among many, many other notable hits: he's possibly most famous for the song "Short People"). The role of Dr. Facilier was voiced by Keith David, a man with two first names. Both of those names are well-known to anyone who has watched just about any animated anything lately, expecially video games. My younger son is a huge fan of the man. This video was somewhat controversial, I understand, but not having young kids, I loved it. Though it was not my intention, I've noticed that all of the music in this blog is from Disney studios. Hmm. . . I'm sure that says something. Probably what it mostly refers to is the amount of money that they have to pour into productions. (And people think my husband is the only cynic in the house!) All Hallows Eve will soon be upon us. My Queen Victoria costume is almost done. I've got the Koh-i-noor sitting on the windowsill waiting to go into the queen's reticule. (Dr. Who reference. If you're not a fan, don't worry: I'm just going to be dressing as an historical figure.) We've got candy in the spider dish. Are you ready for the ghosties and ghoulies?
Following an exhaustive search through Google and YouTube (in my book, 4 hours constitutes "exhaustive"), I've come up with hours of Halloween-themed music. Some of it will be posted on FaceBook over the rest of the month; some of it will get special treatment here; and most will be dropped at the wayside because I didn't like them, or was just getting tired of ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. And then, some of it really confused me. I would Google "Halloween songs" and find a list somebody posted, and wonder about their sanity. Why would anyone think Duran Duran's Hungry Like the Wolf belonged in a Halloween list?!?!? Really? I mean, it does talk about a wolf, and they do wear some cool costumes, but come on! Halloween it ain't. As I was weeding through the list, though, I found a connection between two songs that I thought deserved a closer look. Ghost Riders in the Sky and Riders on the Storm. I think I've always been aware of thematic and melodic similarities, but I didn't know they were deliberate; or just how interesting the songs were. So, here goes. Let's start with the older song: (Ghost) Riders in the Sky: A Cowboy Legend. There are probably hundreds of versions out there: this one is Johnny Cash live at the Montreux festival in 1994. (His only appearance there.)
Alternately known as Riders in the Sky, Ghost Riders, Ghost Riders in the Sky, or A Cowboy Legend, this song was written in 1948 by Stan Jones. It has been recorded by such widely disparate artists as Lawrence Welk and The Tubes. (I'm amazed the computer doesn't start spewing smoke just having those two side-by-side like that!) There have been versions in German, Spanish, Portuguese, metal, merengue, surf-style, and (Get this!) Finnish melodic death metal or surf-punk-electro. There have been alternate versions, like The Dirtiest Town in the West from "Sesame Street." Peter, Paul and Mary did a take-off called Yuppies in the Sky, which is a personal favorite; it was written by Tom Paxton, and that was his rendition: I couldn't find PP&M. Sigh. And there is even a version "sung" (?!?!) by Christopher Lee, which may be the first professional recording I've heard that made me long for Autotune. The original song tells the story of a cowboy who sees a vision in the sky of a herd of steel-hooved cattle. They are chased by the spirits of damned cowboys. One warns the viewer that if he doesn't change his ways, he too, will be doomed to join them, "Tryin' to catch the Devil's herd across these endless skies." (Sounds a little like the Celtic Wild Hunt to me, just from a cowpoke point of view.) This song was also possibly the inspiration for the Marvel Comics character, Ghost Rider. But don't go jumping to the Nicolas Cage movie (at least, not yet). Before we think about that, we have to start at the very beginning. A very good place to start. (Ooops. Very much the wrong genre. Sorry) Before we had Johnny Blaze, there was the cowboy version of Ghost Rider. His name was Carter Slade and through an unlikely series of incidents, he became the Ghost Rider, later called the Phantom Rider (but not until after Slade's death, so as not to be confused with Johnny Blaze, the biker with the flaming skull). This character should not be confused with Carter Slade as portrayed by Sam Elliott in the Ghost Rider movie. They simply aren't the same. In the comics, Carter Slade wore a glowing white costume, full-face mask, cape and a white hat. Nothing like the skeleton wearing dusty cowboy clothes. (If you really want to know more, ask the Nameless Cynic, or even worse, my son, Chris. But don't plan on going anywhere for the next several days. The explanation will be very convoluted, and you'll never recover.)
The movie did give us an interesting character point for Johnny Blaze. He likes the Carpenters. And while this may seem like an odd thing to mention in a blog about Halloween music, you should hear my husband scream as I hit "play". Now, that's scary (the Nameless Cynic screaming, not Karen Carpenter. I always liked her voice). Anyway, another voice that I always liked was Jim Morrison. (Cool segue, huh?) Deep, resonant, what a beautiful voice he had. Shame he, like Karen Carpenter, died so young. Morrison wrote the second of my two focus songs: "Riders on the Storm."
"Riders on the Storm" was inspired by "Ghost Riders in the Sky." It was also based on the story of Billy Cook, a man who hitchhiked across the country, killing people as he went. This was the last song that The Doors ever recorded: after completing it, Jim Morrison left for France and died a few weeks later. Apparently, as a young man, Morrison had hitchhiked across Florida on a regular basis to visit his girl-friend. He'd even having written a screenplay about a man who hitched around, killing people as he went. And now for another awesome segue. Morrison's plot sounds a lot like William Edward "Billy" Cook. (Why do killers always have several names? At least three names, and now four.) Cook was born in 1928. His mother died when he was five. Not long after, the father took Billy and his siblings to an abandoned mine, leaving them to fend for themselves. Eventually, all were placed in foster homes, except Billy. His deformed eye and belligerent attitude kept him out of foster care. He became a ward of the state, and spent years in and out of trouble. He bought a gun and began hitching around. He'd force his victims to drive him around for hours, and then shoot them. At one point, he killed a family of five, and their dog. The cops found out who he was when he accidentally (?) left the receipt for his gun in one of the bloody cars. (Nobody knows why he kept the receipt: maybe he was hoping for a tax deduction since he used it for his work.) It's no real surprise that he ended up on death row. Cook's killing spree was turned into a movie, The Hitch-Hiker (1953), directed my Ida Lupino, and is generally considered to be the first film noir directed by a woman (if you ignore Norwegian director Edith Carlmar, who was making dark-themed movies as far back as 1949). Anyway, back to The Doors. Riders on the Storm grew out of a jam session where they were playing Ghost Riders in the Sky. Morrison spoke his lyrics over his singing voice for an eerie effect to the finished recording. As Ray Manzarek put it, "That's the last thing he ever did. An ephemeral, whispered overdub." So, now you know more than you ever wanted to about these two songs. Both definitely belong in a Halloween list. Oddly, I had to go to a German band, Dezperadoz, to find someone who'd done both songs: they began with a concept album to bring Wyatt Earp to life musically. (See? Another Halloween link! More costumes!) They're not really my cup of tea: Riders on the Storm is pretty much a cover with some interesting instrumentation, but Ghost Riders made my throat hurt even more than it already does. Ouch. Let me know if you find anyone else who's recorded both.
I thought that since this is October, and since I've been on a dead composer kick on my FaceBook page (http://www.facebook.com/MinnichMusic) I'd focus on some music suitable to the Halloween theme. This time, with a classical bent.
And what better place to start than Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor. Take the time to read about the organ, because that's really cool, too. But here's a little bit about the music. It wasn't written to be spooky, of course, but it certainly has become the spooky classic extraordinaire. Turns out, it may not have been written by J. S. Bach, after all. Some music scholars have raised some doubts, based on parallel octaves at the beginning and a bunch of other scholarly things. So, well, then. Hmm. . . I'm still going to call it Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor. So there.
I'm following maybe-Bach with sort-of-Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain. Try and stay with me through this - after you've watched the video, of course. Go on, I'll wait. This is the 1940 Disney Fantasia version, and is well worth the watch. You're back already? Sorry if you had to wait, I was stirring the soup for dinner. Now, back to Bald Mountain. Why sort-of-Mussorgsky? Here we go. Modest Mussorgsky (What? No, he wasn't particularly modest. Modest is his first name, long "O". Sheesh!) wrote St. John's Night on the Bare Mountain, when he was 27. (Right? He was born in 1839. Wrote the piece in 1867. In 69 he would have been 30, take away 3 years, and you get 27. OK, good.) The problem was that nobody was particularly impressed with the composition, except Modest. He kept trying to sneak it into other things; a ballet, and an opera. (See? I told you he wasn't particularly modest!) Finally, 5 years after Modest's death, another Russian composer, Nicolay Rimsky-Korsakov, found the original, and liked it. But he couldn't just let it be, he made his own arrangement of the composition, and that became popular. (Modest never heard it performed. And his original composition was not even published until 1968!) The most famous version, however, is the version used for Fantasia, which is Leopold Stokowski's arrangement of Rimsky-Korsakov's version of Mussorgsky's St. John's Night on the Bare Mountain. Oh, and just to confuse things even more, the Russian word "lisaya" means "bald" but in this case refers to a mountain that is bare of trees. So, in the United Kingdom, the piece is entitled: Night on the Bare Mountain.
This brings us to Danse Macabre which is actually by Camille Saint-Saens. This began as an art song for voice and piano. (I really want to find a copy of that version!) Like Night on Bald Mountain, it is a tone poem, with the music in effect, painting a picture in your mind. According to a French legend, the Devil appears on Halloween night and raises the dead, and they dance while he plays for them on his violin: the Danse Macabre or Dance of the Dead. It includes extensive use of the tritone, or Devil's interval, an augmented 4th. And I love the use of the xylophone, mimicking the sound of the bones dancing. (And, if there's anybody out there beside the Nameless Cynic and I who love the English series, Jonathan Creek, this is used as it's theme song. Series is available through Netflix. Watch it!)
And, since I am a singer, and I find all of this instrumental music unnatural; you get this from Englebert Humperdinck's opera Hansel and Gretel. (No, not this Engelbert Humperdinck. His real name is Arnold George Dorsey. Someone thought that Engelbert Humperdinck was a better stage name. My dad had all of his albums.) (And, NO - not Prince Humperdinck! That's a character in The Princess Bride, played by Christopher Sarandon. Sigh.) (The correct Engelbert Humperdinck was a German composer who lived from 1854-1921. He was heavily influenced by Richard Wagner. I'm not even going to try to explain about Wagner. Look him up yourself.) (The spell check on my computer really doesn't like all these repeats of Engelbert Humperdinck.)
Anyway, Engelbert Humperdinck wrote the opera using a libretto written by his sister, Adelheid Wette. (Hmm. . . it doesn't like that name, either. Oh well.) The opera is popular the world over, but more important to me is that Opera Unlimited has Hansel and Gretel in our repertory, and I play the Witch. This, sadly, is not me performing, but is taken from UNCW's outreach program. (And, no, I don't know what UNCW stands for. Sorry. I'm getting tired of looking things up for you.) I want a scooter for when we perform it next. But, I don't think I'll try for a split at the end. I think I'll just hold onto that last note a bit longer.
I gave myself a rehearsal challenge this past week to spend at least 30 minutes each day practicing. How did that go? Difficult, to say the least. Inertia is really difficult to overcome sometimes. Several days the only thing that made me interested in practicing was the fact that I'd promised, publicly that I would. Having said that, several of those days gave me some really good practice sessions. My favorite being the day I spent 40 minutes on 2 pages of Mozart, with easily half on that on one 5-measure phrase. That level of depth is exciting and fun and frustrating all at once. Or, at least, I think so. But toward the end of the week, it became impossible for me to practice singing. In a way, I was able to keep up the challenge, in that I have two other instruments that I can practice. Why couldn't I sing? Quite simply because I had a sore throat. Rough, scratchy, and very hoarse. Now, I know how to work around that kind of an issue, if I have to. And while I was tempted to try for the challenge, ultimately, I felt it wasn't worth the trouble. Trouble? This is when singing ceases to be a joy, and becomes literally, work. Hard, grueling work. You have to warm-up very slowly and carefully; the placement has to be just right, and the support has to be rock-solid. And, if you're not very, very careful, your voice can be even more hoarse the next day. That's why it wasn't worth the trouble for the challenge. I'd do it for a performance, not for a self-inflicted challenge. But this time of year, everybody wakes up with a scratchy, sore throat. How do you know when it's just morning crud as opposed to something you need to pay attention to? Well, the words "morning crud" are your first hint. If the hoarseness goes away after you've been up for a while, had a cup of tea, and worked your voice for a while by talking to the cat, you can be pretty confident that it was nothing to worry about, and go on singing. If, on the other hand, after all of the above, you are still talking like Tallulah Bankhead, it might be time to put off singing plans that day. (If you don't know who Tallulah Bankhead is, and even if you do ~ check out this video.
It's a very funny version of Baby It's Cold Outside, with Ms Bankhead and Jack Carson. There are several pictures of her while the video is on. If you think ~ as I did, that you don't know who Jack Carson was ~ here's his photo. He was in everything.) Anytime that it hurts to talk, is time to not sing. There. I think that about covers it. Otherwise ~ keep on singing!
I love to sing. Really, really love to sing. If I go for too long without singing, my temper gets a little short and nothing seems to go right. I love to play the piano and the guitar. And yet, I'll let weeks go by without touching one of the three guitars that grace my living room. I'll let weeks go by without singing anything more than I must to get through my lessons. Never really singing. Inertia.
Sir Isaac Newton's First Law of Motion can be stated thusly: I think that about says it all, don't you? (I have absolutely NO idea what that means.) I learned Newton's first law this way: An object in motion will tend to stay in motion unless acted upon by another body. Contrariwise, an object at rest will tend to stay at rest unless acted upon by another body. This is also called the Law of Inertia. So, now let's look at the word: inertia. It is from the Latin: in - without, not; and ars - skilled, art. So, unskilled, artless. I've also seen it defined as: lack of art or skill, inactivity, indolence. Lazy. Hmm. . . I am indolent. Even lazy. But I really resent the lack of art or skill part there. I am very skilled. However, singing, playing the piano and guitar are all use-it-or-lose-it skills. I try to be understanding when my students come to me and tell me that they really didn't have time to practice this past week. I know how busy our lives are; it's difficult to find the time to do anything, even things that we enjoy. That's one of the reasons I made these warm-up videos for my students. Basic warm-up. This takes 1 minute, 52 seconds. I'll round it up to 2 minutes.
This is followed, in my standard warm-up by: Short scale to the 5th. This is the high voice option. 1 minute 26 seconds. Say - 1:30. Do it twice: once on "Ah" and then again on "Ng-ah". There's 3 minutes.
Finish with Arpeggio Scales coming in at 1 minute 13 seconds. So, that's a grand total of roughly 6 and a half minutes. (I really hope these came out in the right order!) 6 minutes and 30 seconds. That's how long my idea of the barest warm-up would take.
There are 1440 minutes in a day. Let's round up our 6:30 down to 6 minutes. This gives us a fraction of 6/1440, or 1/240 of a day. (I rounded down because when I tried 7, the decimal was HUGE!) When I was 12 or 13, I came to a parting of the ways with my piano teacher. She was nuts. And not in a funny, good way. No, this woman was flipping insane. She let her cat sleep inside the piano while you were trying to have a lesson. She'd pace the perimeter of the room kind of like the woman in The Yellow Wallpaper. (If you haven't read it, here it is: The Yellow Wallpaper. I warn you, though: it's really weird. Short, but weird. But back to Miss Fedderer) She'd pace and pace and when you hit a wrong note, she'd scream, and you'd have to stop and fix it. She was the only piano teacher in town, so it was her or no one. At that point, I had a stack of piano books that was almost 3 feet thick. It took me over 90 minutes just to get through everything she'd assigned me for the week, just once. Not really practicing, just running through. In my 30 minute lesson, we'd never get through it all, but she'd keep assigning more and more. Finally, she insisted that if I really wanted to improve, I needed a minimum of 6 hours of practicing each day. 6 hours! I tried to explain to her that with school and homework, there really wasn't any more time in the day, if I was to make my 10 p.m. bedtime. So she told me to get up at 6 a.m. and practice for 2 hours before school. For some reason, my parents didn't think much of that idea. I tried to explain to the woman that piano wasn't my first instrument: voice was. That may have been my last lesson with her. Dad then found me a piano student at the college who was interested in teaching. She carefully broke a lot bad habits I'd been taught, and I began to enjoy practicing again. For a more reasonable hour or so, every day. You see, to me practicing is not just a means to an end. It is an enjoyable way to spend some time. It is cathartic, letting me pour my emotions into the music. It relieves stress. It allows for time to ponder some of the problems that life throws at me. My preferred method is to accompany myself on piano or guitar while I sing away. But, I can work on just one instrument at a time, too. And yet, unless I have something specific to work toward, I tend to just let it all slide. Inertia. So, here comes the whole point of this blog. I need to practice, and so do you. Just warming-up takes under 10 minutes. I've given all of you what I use as a warm-up. You can add to if, if you'd like, but I wouldn't recommend subtracting. Let's work together and overcome inertia! I pledge to spend 30 minutes each and every day this coming week in music practice. Voice/piano/guitar. 30 minutes total. That's not a huge amount of time, but I will do it, and I'll report to you, either on FaceBook, or my new Twitter feed. Don't try this at home: I am a professional. Or, no, do try this at home! But, if 30 minutes seems scary, try 15, or even 10. If all you do is the warm-up every single day, I promise that you will progress faster than you have been to date. They say that 3 to 4 weeks are required to make any new practice into a habit. Maybe we should change the vocabulary. We don't want to practice. We want to habit. Let me know how your habitting goes this week. I will be checking.
(Yes, "habitting" is a word. Stop being a problem.)
