What do you do?

Greetings, solfa-seekers!

The sun is shining brightly today in Colorado, despite forebodings of gloomy weather today, and I am grateful for the near-completion of a very busy weekend (and an unexpected reprieve from my usual Monday activities...hooray!). The University Singers' mini-tour to Winter Park was a success, thanks in large part to the cool heads and warm hearts of the Singers themselves. They did themselves proud from musical, logistical, and human standpoints, and I believe myself to be exceedingly lucky to work with them (and no, I'm not just buttering them up because they're stuck with me as their conductor for the remainder of the semester....though it probably can't hurt, right?).

For me, this month has been an exercise in learning my limitations. As I mentioned in my last post, I am a self-diagnosed adrenaline junkie. I have learned in my time how to do many things, and how to tiptoe right up to the line of the humanly impossible. In the past few weeks, I feel that circumstances have called me down on those choices and taught me several good lessons, but the heavy-hitters seem to go as follows:

1. When panic strikes, the ability to stop and ask yourself the question "What do you do?" is invaluable.

2. Being willing to accept help in a variety of forms can be hard, but it's absolutely necessary. And when it is offered, for gods' sakes, have the humility and the courage to accept it and accept it graciously.

I should perhaps explain here that the concept behind Lesson #1 was ruthlessly "borrowed" from a dear horn-playing-tenor-singing friend of mine who has two delightful and well-trained dogs, and when it's time to go for a walk, get a treat, etc., he says to them, "What do you do?" Now, before anyone gets upset because I'm comparing self-training to dog training, think for a second about that cue. The real message behind it is exactly right: "You know what to do. All you have to do is remember and do it." It's a message of confidence. It's a reminder of competence. It's a way of telling yourself that you can, even when it feels like you can't. As it pertains to solfa (Aha! You knew I was gonna do this!), this is really good self-pedagogy, because it asks you to draw upon what you already know to be able to deal with something that looks complicated....our favorite pedagogical progression of using the known to access the unknown. You're putting your own logged hours of effort to work for you, honoring your own work by not reinventing the wheel.

As for Lesson #2, it is also a message of empowerment: many supports are available to us as people and as musicians, and we (and especially I) like to beat our heads against the wall trying to do things without gathering the necessary tools and support mechanisms. We'd rather not have to think about how to get help because we're too proud or because getting the help seems like more effort than just pushing through. I would argue, however, that one learns much more from solving a problem when one is not so exhausted from the effort that all one wants to do is forget the whole thing ever happened.

It occurs to me that I've been preaching both of these messages to you, my students, for quite some time, but it's been a long time since I took a good, hard look at the way I get through my own tough tasks and rough patches. Studies in limitation are probably very good for all of us to take on sometimes, and it's probably never the same lesson twice, even if the principles are the same.

Rising Level 2's

Take a look at Ottman 12.1-12.10

Before you read through each example, consciously give yourself the following cues:

1. What do you do (meaning, what procedures should you follow in order to be successful)?

2. What help can I get to make this task more manageable (meaning, what pieces of information should you look for that will help de-mystify the examples -- formal patterns, scales/triad outlines, rhythmic repetitions, sequences, etc.)?

If you struggle with an example, revisit cue #2, and decide how to proceed with some sort of aid (i.e., reading through rhythm only first, transposing into a key that better suits your voice, accompanying yourself with block chords on the piano, going faster or slower, etc.)

Rising Level 3's

Take a look at Ottman 18.16-18.26 (read the chapter 18 heading before you start to give yourself a hint about why the rhythms look so scary, and pick your tempi accordingly....be musical in your choices of tempi, however -- if a super-slow tempo makes the music sound boring or yucky, that will make it harder for you to sing it).

Follow the same procedure as the rising level 2's

Rising Level 4's

Take a look at Ottman 19.2-19.5, 19.7, 19.12-19.13 (in my own examination of each of these melodies, I decided against changing keys in each case, but it's up to you).

Follow the same procedure as the rising level 2's, noting that audiation of the home tone is your friend in the chromatic passages, as is audiation of notes of resolution....remember, chromaticism is just an accessory!

And, for a little refreshment (only partly on these themes), click here.