http://dl.dropbox.com/u/9878872/blog%20A.pdf
Enjoy!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
The Pilgrim's Progress
My dear fellow travelers:
First, an exciting announcement! Next week, The Other 49 Weeks of Solfa will host its first appearance of a guest blogger! Our guest is none other than my own much-loved and revered teacher, Dr. Cetto, who has graciously agreed to cover for me during the week of my dreaded exams. We're in for a treat, and I'm so grateful for his help!
Over the course of this week, I've continued to immerse myself in exam materials, working with all my might to permeate my poor little brain with everything there is to know about the things I'm supposed to know. And, I can already tell that it's going to be a tremendous relief in some ways to just finally sit down at that computer in the music library and start typing....I'm sure it'll be a relief to all of you when I finally stop talking about it (insert sheepish grin here). In the meantime, I'll keep walking my path and doing my work for a few more days until it's Wednesday, and the only thing to do is open the floodgates and see what comes out. It's sort of like a five-day performance, I guess. I'm on the spot, I know what I know, and I just have to do it.
This is the nature of a test, and this is the nature of performance. Perhaps this is why some of what we do as musicians makes us seem so insane to the non-musician world. We lock ourselves in little rooms and play/sing scales and arpeggios for hours. We go over the same 4 measures 97 times. We go over those same 4 measures 97 more times in our private lesson with a person we pay a lot of money to tell us how those 4 measures really ought to sound...97 times! The outside world has a point: this behavior is pretty darn crazy, but it's for a purpose. We are on a journey unlike that of a lot of other people. We live by what our minds and bodies can do to pay homage to the past, create beauty, and evoke emotions in other people, and often we must do it from memory, all alone on a big stage with only our instrument and our wits while a crowd of people sits across from us, waiting to hear and see what we will do. This is extreme. This makes Survivor look like a piece of cake. This is our pilgrim way.
In order to be successful on our journey, we not only have to learn how to do something (for example, play a scale) once, we must learn how to accomplish that task in an infinite sea of musical variables (tempo, key, articulation, fragmentation, ornamentation, dynamics, register, etc.) as we swim in the infinite sea of extra-musical variables (room temperature, crying babies, head colds, low humidity, cell phones, performance anxiety, newspaper reviewers, bad lighting, etc.). Knowing this makes us the neurotic people that many of us are, and it also means that over-practicing the basics is almost never a bad idea. It's just part of our pilgrim's progress -- sometimes we're on the Hill of Difficulty, scrambling over boulders and scraping our knees. Sometimes we're in the Palace Beautiful, putting up our feet. Sometimes we're in the Slough of Despond, and we have to get a friend to come pull us onto dry land. But all the while, we know where we're going. We must keep to the narrow way, the pilgrim way, and trust that we got on the path for a reason.
All of that being said, I want to keep the workload simple and fairly light this week.
Rising Level 2's
Dig up your copy of "Our Tuning Forks, Our Selves" (if you can't find it, you can print yourself a shiny new one from the link on the right side of your screen), and locate your tuning fork.
Take a day to re-acquaint yourself with the methods for finding each key -- if something doesn't make sense, shoot me an email.
Then, on a daily basis, check yourself and your key-finding ability. Sing songs in your classroom in odd keys that are more difficult to find. When you're listening to music, get out your fork and see if you can figure out what key it's in (sort of the inverse of the key-finding process). Ask a friend to randomly test you throughout the week (over the phone works just fine for this task). Immerse yourself in the world of tonality, and make A440 your mantra for the week...just for fun!
Rising Level 3's
If you know that you have troubles finding keys in a logical, consistent fashion when you're put on the spot, use the same assignment as the rising 2's this week.
However, if you're completely confident in your tuning fork skills, check this out:
http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/9/9c/Moza-intr-kyr.pdf
Most of you will recognize this piece by reputation, if not by having sung/played/heard it lots of times. What you may not know, however, is that the soprano solo (starting in m. 21) and the choral soprano line that immediately follows (mm. 27-32) have everything to do with pilgrimage: they are each a statement of the tonus peregrinus, or the pilgrim tone. Tonus peregrinus is a psalm tone, used in Christian churches since the middle ages for chanting biblical psalms (a Google search will get you lots of interesting information, I'm certain). This psalm tone differs from others because the reciting tone (the note used to articulate most of the words in a psalm, usually the same note in both halves of a psalm tone) changes from the first half of the tone to the second half, so those fanciful medieval types gave it a name (peregrinus, the Latin word for "pilgrim") describing that very characteristic. So, sing through these two passages in a comfortable octave (I recommend B-flat do for that section), then tackle the remainder of the Introit movement (notice that it's a sloooooow movement). What keys do you expect to visit? Does the journey in fact take you there? If you're feeling ambitious, feel free to check out the Kyrie that follows -- it's SO cool, and that way you can try your hand at something a little zippier.
Rising Level 4's
If you have any doubts on the tuning fork front, please avail yourselves of the rising 2's assignment. However, I have another pilgrim-y treat for you:
http://www2.cpdl.org/wiki/images/0/0e/Bach-suscepit.pdf
If you don't know the Bach Magnificat already, I recommend that you stop whatever you might be doing and go listen to it right, RIGHT now. I like the John Eliot Gardner recording (though his tempo on this movement is soooooo sloooooow and his "Omnes generationes" might singe your eyebrows if you stand too close to the speakers....though it's really fun at that tempo!). Anyhow, this piece provides plenty of fodder for sight-singing and key analysis fun. It's not terribly straightforward, to be honest, and you'll probably find yourself moving within some odd key relationships. Definitely take the time to listen to at least this movement, as it does all sound beautiful and make sense at the end of the day. Now, how does this relate to the pilgrim theme? Well, check out that oboe line. Compare it to the soprano solos in the link listed for the rising 3's. Any correlation? Yup, this, too, is a tonus peregrinus sighting....isn't that neat?
All right, my little pilgrims...good luck to you, and I'll be back in the blogosphere in two weeks! Cheers, and wish me luck!
First, an exciting announcement! Next week, The Other 49 Weeks of Solfa will host its first appearance of a guest blogger! Our guest is none other than my own much-loved and revered teacher, Dr. Cetto, who has graciously agreed to cover for me during the week of my dreaded exams. We're in for a treat, and I'm so grateful for his help!
Over the course of this week, I've continued to immerse myself in exam materials, working with all my might to permeate my poor little brain with everything there is to know about the things I'm supposed to know. And, I can already tell that it's going to be a tremendous relief in some ways to just finally sit down at that computer in the music library and start typing....I'm sure it'll be a relief to all of you when I finally stop talking about it (insert sheepish grin here). In the meantime, I'll keep walking my path and doing my work for a few more days until it's Wednesday, and the only thing to do is open the floodgates and see what comes out. It's sort of like a five-day performance, I guess. I'm on the spot, I know what I know, and I just have to do it.
This is the nature of a test, and this is the nature of performance. Perhaps this is why some of what we do as musicians makes us seem so insane to the non-musician world. We lock ourselves in little rooms and play/sing scales and arpeggios for hours. We go over the same 4 measures 97 times. We go over those same 4 measures 97 more times in our private lesson with a person we pay a lot of money to tell us how those 4 measures really ought to sound...97 times! The outside world has a point: this behavior is pretty darn crazy, but it's for a purpose. We are on a journey unlike that of a lot of other people. We live by what our minds and bodies can do to pay homage to the past, create beauty, and evoke emotions in other people, and often we must do it from memory, all alone on a big stage with only our instrument and our wits while a crowd of people sits across from us, waiting to hear and see what we will do. This is extreme. This makes Survivor look like a piece of cake. This is our pilgrim way.
In order to be successful on our journey, we not only have to learn how to do something (for example, play a scale) once, we must learn how to accomplish that task in an infinite sea of musical variables (tempo, key, articulation, fragmentation, ornamentation, dynamics, register, etc.) as we swim in the infinite sea of extra-musical variables (room temperature, crying babies, head colds, low humidity, cell phones, performance anxiety, newspaper reviewers, bad lighting, etc.). Knowing this makes us the neurotic people that many of us are, and it also means that over-practicing the basics is almost never a bad idea. It's just part of our pilgrim's progress -- sometimes we're on the Hill of Difficulty, scrambling over boulders and scraping our knees. Sometimes we're in the Palace Beautiful, putting up our feet. Sometimes we're in the Slough of Despond, and we have to get a friend to come pull us onto dry land. But all the while, we know where we're going. We must keep to the narrow way, the pilgrim way, and trust that we got on the path for a reason.
All of that being said, I want to keep the workload simple and fairly light this week.
Rising Level 2's
Dig up your copy of "Our Tuning Forks, Our Selves" (if you can't find it, you can print yourself a shiny new one from the link on the right side of your screen), and locate your tuning fork.
Take a day to re-acquaint yourself with the methods for finding each key -- if something doesn't make sense, shoot me an email.
Then, on a daily basis, check yourself and your key-finding ability. Sing songs in your classroom in odd keys that are more difficult to find. When you're listening to music, get out your fork and see if you can figure out what key it's in (sort of the inverse of the key-finding process). Ask a friend to randomly test you throughout the week (over the phone works just fine for this task). Immerse yourself in the world of tonality, and make A440 your mantra for the week...just for fun!
Rising Level 3's
If you know that you have troubles finding keys in a logical, consistent fashion when you're put on the spot, use the same assignment as the rising 2's this week.
However, if you're completely confident in your tuning fork skills, check this out:
http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/9/9c/Moza-intr-kyr.pdf
Most of you will recognize this piece by reputation, if not by having sung/played/heard it lots of times. What you may not know, however, is that the soprano solo (starting in m. 21) and the choral soprano line that immediately follows (mm. 27-32) have everything to do with pilgrimage: they are each a statement of the tonus peregrinus, or the pilgrim tone. Tonus peregrinus is a psalm tone, used in Christian churches since the middle ages for chanting biblical psalms (a Google search will get you lots of interesting information, I'm certain). This psalm tone differs from others because the reciting tone (the note used to articulate most of the words in a psalm, usually the same note in both halves of a psalm tone) changes from the first half of the tone to the second half, so those fanciful medieval types gave it a name (peregrinus, the Latin word for "pilgrim") describing that very characteristic. So, sing through these two passages in a comfortable octave (I recommend B-flat do for that section), then tackle the remainder of the Introit movement (notice that it's a sloooooow movement). What keys do you expect to visit? Does the journey in fact take you there? If you're feeling ambitious, feel free to check out the Kyrie that follows -- it's SO cool, and that way you can try your hand at something a little zippier.
Rising Level 4's
If you have any doubts on the tuning fork front, please avail yourselves of the rising 2's assignment. However, I have another pilgrim-y treat for you:
http://www2.cpdl.org/wiki/images/0/0e/Bach-suscepit.pdf
If you don't know the Bach Magnificat already, I recommend that you stop whatever you might be doing and go listen to it right, RIGHT now. I like the John Eliot Gardner recording (though his tempo on this movement is soooooo sloooooow and his "Omnes generationes" might singe your eyebrows if you stand too close to the speakers....though it's really fun at that tempo!). Anyhow, this piece provides plenty of fodder for sight-singing and key analysis fun. It's not terribly straightforward, to be honest, and you'll probably find yourself moving within some odd key relationships. Definitely take the time to listen to at least this movement, as it does all sound beautiful and make sense at the end of the day. Now, how does this relate to the pilgrim theme? Well, check out that oboe line. Compare it to the soprano solos in the link listed for the rising 3's. Any correlation? Yup, this, too, is a tonus peregrinus sighting....isn't that neat?
All right, my little pilgrims...good luck to you, and I'll be back in the blogosphere in two weeks! Cheers, and wish me luck!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Going Through the Motions
Welcome, Solfa Slayers!
Many of you may already know that I have tremendous appreciation for all things Joss Whedon (and I am not particularly concerned with outside judgments of this appreciation, so if you need to roll your eyes, know that it doesn't bother me -- I am, after all, a graduate of K-12 homeschooling AND a person who blogs about solfege on a weekly basis, so coolness is obviously not a central part of my life), and in particular, I LOVE Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the TV series, naturally...I've actually never seen the movie). Many of you also know (because of my running commentary here and elsewhere) that I'm in the midst of preparing for my written comprehensive exams, which are now 10 days away. If you've been through this process, you can probably make a good guess about my head-space at the moment, and if you haven't...well, I am in no place to have great perspective right now, but I can tell you this:
I'm doing a lot of stuff right now that feels like it's not accomplishing much. I'm looking at pieces of information, reading a lot, typing a lot, trying to make sense out of many things, and feeling like I have a skull full of Malt-o-meal rather than a functioning brain. In fact, I feel like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tO7J2knk4Ew
[For the uninitiated, here's the backdrop. Buffy (the singing woman...she doesn't usually sing, this is just a special musical episode, for which someone has diligently taught her Julie Andrews' approach to internal r's in English diction) is a vampire slayer, meaning that she was born with super-human strength and fighting ability and it is her sole responsibility to save the world...a lot. Well, a few months before the time of this episode, Buffy saved the world and died in the process, but then her friends used a powerful spell to resurrect her, because they thought she was trapped in a place of unspeakable torment. However, Buffy was not where they think she was when she was dead, but instead in a state of bliss and rest, and now she's been yanked back into her daily grind of world-saving and demon-fighting and isn't too pleased. She hasn't told her friends any of this, though, and none of them can figure out why she seems so disengaged from life.]
My point is that I feel like I'm going through the motions, too. Unlike Buffy, however, I am not a once-in-a-generation chosen one. I have the advantage of knowing lots of people who have gone down this road before me. So, I already know the moral of the story, even though it pains me to admit it:
Just keep going.
Work doesn't always feel satisfying. Pushing through is sometimes lacking in any kind of immediate reward. The point is to have faith that the reason you set out down this road is still there someplace, just beyond where you can see.
And, while this is all particularly applicable for my specific situation at the moment, I suspect everyone has been through this kind of thing before. It can be a real drag...I mean, none of us became artists because we cope well with the feeling that we're just slogging through. Probably we all hear a lot from folks who work outside the arts that we're lucky, and I agree that we are. However, that luck does NOT exempt us from this kind of trial-by-sweat-without-much-satisfaction. Inspiration can be flighty. Rewards and reinforcement can come too infrequently. And in those times, sometimes you have to go through the motions, let your body and your discipline take over when your spirit and your emotions are dragging, and trust that your mind and heart will ultimately work themselves out. What's inside is always changing. What's outside is always changing. Even when it doesn't seem like it, what you do in the meantime still always matters.
Rising Level 2's
Begin with a little set-up exercise:
Using your tuning fork, find the key of F major and sing a tonic triad.
Then, sing a V7.
Then, sing the resolution of everything in that V7 that needs to go someplace:
f-m
t,-d
s,-d
Repeat this process in F minor, still remembering to resolve your tendency tones:
r-d
si-l
m,-l
Now, go to Ottman, Chapter 11 and sing through one major (section 1) and one minor (section 2) per day, setting up each example you choose with the exercise above, first in solfa and then in letter names. Believe me, this will make these exercises seem like a piece of cake, and it'll go a long way towards helping you think in fifths, which will come in very handy when we start talking about chromaticism next summer.
Rising Level 3's
Begin with our favorite chromatic scalar exercise:
d d t, d r r di r m m ri m f....etc.,
Sing both the ascending and descending versions, with "wringing" motions at the half steps if you have any trouble with intonation. If you have lots of trouble, find a friend and get him/her to sing a major scale in long notes along with you to help you stabilize your chromatics. If you don't have a singing friend handy, as a last resort, you may play the tonic in octaves along with yourself.
Now, try singing the exercise from la instead of do...shazzam! It's a minor chromatic exercise!
Look at the following Ottman examples:
15.86
15.90
15.92
15.94
15.95
Before you begin singing each example, set it up with the appropriate incarnation (from la or from do) of the chromatic exercise in the key of the example you're singing (if you want, you may use letter names, but that might be more trouble than it's worth). Scan each melody ahead of time and pay attention to what chromatic syllables you'll need and how they resolve. Remember to anchor yourself in the diatonic, because (after all) chromaticism is just a splash of color!
Rising Level 4's
Use the set-up exercises outlined for BOTH the rising 2's and 3's, but use these more challenging Ottman examples:
16.39
16.41
16.42
16.44
16.51 (look at the end so you're not tempted to pick too fast a tempo!)
Go through the motions, my friends...sometimes it's the only way to get to the end.
Many of you may already know that I have tremendous appreciation for all things Joss Whedon (and I am not particularly concerned with outside judgments of this appreciation, so if you need to roll your eyes, know that it doesn't bother me -- I am, after all, a graduate of K-12 homeschooling AND a person who blogs about solfege on a weekly basis, so coolness is obviously not a central part of my life), and in particular, I LOVE Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the TV series, naturally...I've actually never seen the movie). Many of you also know (because of my running commentary here and elsewhere) that I'm in the midst of preparing for my written comprehensive exams, which are now 10 days away. If you've been through this process, you can probably make a good guess about my head-space at the moment, and if you haven't...well, I am in no place to have great perspective right now, but I can tell you this:
I'm doing a lot of stuff right now that feels like it's not accomplishing much. I'm looking at pieces of information, reading a lot, typing a lot, trying to make sense out of many things, and feeling like I have a skull full of Malt-o-meal rather than a functioning brain. In fact, I feel like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tO7J2knk4Ew
[For the uninitiated, here's the backdrop. Buffy (the singing woman...she doesn't usually sing, this is just a special musical episode, for which someone has diligently taught her Julie Andrews' approach to internal r's in English diction) is a vampire slayer, meaning that she was born with super-human strength and fighting ability and it is her sole responsibility to save the world...a lot. Well, a few months before the time of this episode, Buffy saved the world and died in the process, but then her friends used a powerful spell to resurrect her, because they thought she was trapped in a place of unspeakable torment. However, Buffy was not where they think she was when she was dead, but instead in a state of bliss and rest, and now she's been yanked back into her daily grind of world-saving and demon-fighting and isn't too pleased. She hasn't told her friends any of this, though, and none of them can figure out why she seems so disengaged from life.]
My point is that I feel like I'm going through the motions, too. Unlike Buffy, however, I am not a once-in-a-generation chosen one. I have the advantage of knowing lots of people who have gone down this road before me. So, I already know the moral of the story, even though it pains me to admit it:
Just keep going.
Work doesn't always feel satisfying. Pushing through is sometimes lacking in any kind of immediate reward. The point is to have faith that the reason you set out down this road is still there someplace, just beyond where you can see.
And, while this is all particularly applicable for my specific situation at the moment, I suspect everyone has been through this kind of thing before. It can be a real drag...I mean, none of us became artists because we cope well with the feeling that we're just slogging through. Probably we all hear a lot from folks who work outside the arts that we're lucky, and I agree that we are. However, that luck does NOT exempt us from this kind of trial-by-sweat-without-much-satisfaction. Inspiration can be flighty. Rewards and reinforcement can come too infrequently. And in those times, sometimes you have to go through the motions, let your body and your discipline take over when your spirit and your emotions are dragging, and trust that your mind and heart will ultimately work themselves out. What's inside is always changing. What's outside is always changing. Even when it doesn't seem like it, what you do in the meantime still always matters.
Rising Level 2's
Begin with a little set-up exercise:
Using your tuning fork, find the key of F major and sing a tonic triad.
Then, sing a V7.
Then, sing the resolution of everything in that V7 that needs to go someplace:
f-m
t,-d
s,-d
Repeat this process in F minor, still remembering to resolve your tendency tones:
r-d
si-l
m,-l
Now, go to Ottman, Chapter 11 and sing through one major (section 1) and one minor (section 2) per day, setting up each example you choose with the exercise above, first in solfa and then in letter names. Believe me, this will make these exercises seem like a piece of cake, and it'll go a long way towards helping you think in fifths, which will come in very handy when we start talking about chromaticism next summer.
Rising Level 3's
Begin with our favorite chromatic scalar exercise:
d d t, d r r di r m m ri m f....etc.,
Sing both the ascending and descending versions, with "wringing" motions at the half steps if you have any trouble with intonation. If you have lots of trouble, find a friend and get him/her to sing a major scale in long notes along with you to help you stabilize your chromatics. If you don't have a singing friend handy, as a last resort, you may play the tonic in octaves along with yourself.
Now, try singing the exercise from la instead of do...shazzam! It's a minor chromatic exercise!
Look at the following Ottman examples:
15.86
15.90
15.92
15.94
15.95
Before you begin singing each example, set it up with the appropriate incarnation (from la or from do) of the chromatic exercise in the key of the example you're singing (if you want, you may use letter names, but that might be more trouble than it's worth). Scan each melody ahead of time and pay attention to what chromatic syllables you'll need and how they resolve. Remember to anchor yourself in the diatonic, because (after all) chromaticism is just a splash of color!
Rising Level 4's
Use the set-up exercises outlined for BOTH the rising 2's and 3's, but use these more challenging Ottman examples:
16.39
16.41
16.42
16.44
16.51 (look at the end so you're not tempted to pick too fast a tempo!)
Go through the motions, my friends...sometimes it's the only way to get to the end.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Leadership
Hello, solfa sentinels!
Shorts and sandals begone! I looked out my window this morning and saw...
the first snow of the season.
No kidding. The switch has flipped.
So, my mug of mint tea and I got to thinking about this week's blog, and this is what came up:
Leadership. I find this topic interesting, maybe because so much of my time is spent not being the boss, but definitely being in a position where I feel responsible for the way things go. I'm the TA, the big sister, the assistant conductor, the section leader, the Girl Friday. I have come to believe that there is quite an art to this, and while I've spent a good number of years in this kind of role, it's only more recently that I find myself able to comfortably analyze it and cope with everything it means. At the moment, I count myself very lucky to be spending the majority of my professional time in situations where the person in charge really is in charge, both in name and in the way s/he chooses to behave. In this kind of model, it's easy to be a supportive sub-leader -- I just get to do what is asked of me...no fussing, no mind-reading, no power struggles, no secret compensating. And, it's probably quite obvious from the list at the end of that last sentence that I've definitely been in situations that were less copacetic. There are many ways of getting around in such environments, and sometimes those getting-around behaviors stay with us unawares, even when things are better and we don't need them anymore. The upside is that having a whole palette of sub-leader behaviors should theoretically give a person a lot of options in any given situation....and options are powerful when we are able to recognize them as such.
And, since I've grown up in a world where computers have always been present, I tend to think of behavioral choices in terms of a Control Panel -- meaning that there are choices we make actively on a case-by-case basis, but there are also "default settings"...presets that make certain functions automatic. Over time, I think we become more acquainted with our own default settings, we realize that we have the power to change them, and through experimentation and blind luck, sometimes we come upon what works best for us. For me, that has had a lot to do with patience, slowing down, and realizing that consistency and small bites are usually the best way to go. As it turns out, the way I am slowly learning to treat myself is also the best way to lead and to treat other people.
This is perhaps one of the biggest themes of my own pedagogical philosophy, though I don't know if I've ever stated it in so many words before: the best thing I can do for you is convince you that you are your own best teacher. Or, stated another way: I can only make a series of guesses about how any person learns and set up contexts that get at them, but if you know how you learn, you hold the keys to limitlessness. It's just a matter of becoming conscious and then taking the time. In this sense, every student must be a leader. Hopefully, the teacher is capable and the activities and instruction are sound, and just following directions will get you close to where you want to be. However, the last step is always for the student to take -- translating what is outside into what lives inside. That takes guts and patience and knowledge. It takes leadership.
All of that being said:
Rising Level 2's
Take a look at this lovely piece...only as far as the first measure of p. 3, unless you're feeling more adventurous:
http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/2/24/Pergolesi_09_Sancta_mater.pdf
You can take a listen here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zw4GfuclCc
If you only look at the solo parts (up to the top of p. 3, as indicated), you can use the key of E-flat for the entire soprano solo and B-flat for the entire alto solo. This will mean that you have to cope with one little chromatic syllable (the same one in both parts), but I bet you'll be fine.
I'd advise you to work through the rhythm first, one vocal line at a time - conducting is your friend!
Are there common motives between the soprano and alto lines? What makes them easy? What makes them difficult?
If you do decide to go on to the true duet section, be advised that you'll be traveling in the flat direction around the circle of fifths, and that you'll need to watch out for excursions to minor keys.
Rising Level 3's
Look at this little gem:
http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/7/79/Pergolesi_08_Fac_ut_ardeat.pdf
I know it looks long, but I bet you can work your way through it little by little...
You can listen to it here (at ramming speed, but with a wicked countertenor!):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnOmk_wAo8c
And here (with a boys' choir, at a much more moderate clip)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afPj4dSuR1Y&feature=related
I'd advise you to print out the score and listen first, then mark the places where the material is repeated.
Once you've set up a little form scheme for yourself, check out the key centers....it does travel a little , but never very far afield. I bet you can puzzle it out.
From there, use your tonal and form schemes to guide your study of the piece. How will you break it up? Would working backwards be a good approach? Are the voice parts roughly equal? Will you count in 4 or in 2? Will going slow actually be helpful or not? You're in charge!
Rising Level 4's
For you, something a little different:
http://imslp.info/files/imglnks/usimg/9/9e/IMSLP42945-PMLP33670-Strauss--Op_37_6_Lieder.pdf
Check out the first song in the set. You can read the incredibly sweet translation of the text here:
http://www.recmusic.org/lieder/get_text.html?TextId=10228
And you can listen to a recording here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRNbjDzBBGw
Once you've had a listen, try your hand at figuring out key areas for the vocal line. If you get stuck, looking at the piano line might be somewhat helpful. There's definitely some enharmonic and remote stuff going on -- and isn't it magic how it all works out in the end?
Make some decisions about the solfa, and try to sing through sections unaccompanied. Once individual key areas feel reasonably secure, try stringing them together. See if you can make it through the whole piece unaccompanied, but in the right keys -- it's a bit of a feat, I must say!
Enjoy!
Shorts and sandals begone! I looked out my window this morning and saw...
the first snow of the season.
No kidding. The switch has flipped.
So, my mug of mint tea and I got to thinking about this week's blog, and this is what came up:
Leadership. I find this topic interesting, maybe because so much of my time is spent not being the boss, but definitely being in a position where I feel responsible for the way things go. I'm the TA, the big sister, the assistant conductor, the section leader, the Girl Friday. I have come to believe that there is quite an art to this, and while I've spent a good number of years in this kind of role, it's only more recently that I find myself able to comfortably analyze it and cope with everything it means. At the moment, I count myself very lucky to be spending the majority of my professional time in situations where the person in charge really is in charge, both in name and in the way s/he chooses to behave. In this kind of model, it's easy to be a supportive sub-leader -- I just get to do what is asked of me...no fussing, no mind-reading, no power struggles, no secret compensating. And, it's probably quite obvious from the list at the end of that last sentence that I've definitely been in situations that were less copacetic. There are many ways of getting around in such environments, and sometimes those getting-around behaviors stay with us unawares, even when things are better and we don't need them anymore. The upside is that having a whole palette of sub-leader behaviors should theoretically give a person a lot of options in any given situation....and options are powerful when we are able to recognize them as such.
And, since I've grown up in a world where computers have always been present, I tend to think of behavioral choices in terms of a Control Panel -- meaning that there are choices we make actively on a case-by-case basis, but there are also "default settings"...presets that make certain functions automatic. Over time, I think we become more acquainted with our own default settings, we realize that we have the power to change them, and through experimentation and blind luck, sometimes we come upon what works best for us. For me, that has had a lot to do with patience, slowing down, and realizing that consistency and small bites are usually the best way to go. As it turns out, the way I am slowly learning to treat myself is also the best way to lead and to treat other people.
This is perhaps one of the biggest themes of my own pedagogical philosophy, though I don't know if I've ever stated it in so many words before: the best thing I can do for you is convince you that you are your own best teacher. Or, stated another way: I can only make a series of guesses about how any person learns and set up contexts that get at them, but if you know how you learn, you hold the keys to limitlessness. It's just a matter of becoming conscious and then taking the time. In this sense, every student must be a leader. Hopefully, the teacher is capable and the activities and instruction are sound, and just following directions will get you close to where you want to be. However, the last step is always for the student to take -- translating what is outside into what lives inside. That takes guts and patience and knowledge. It takes leadership.
All of that being said:
Rising Level 2's
Take a look at this lovely piece...only as far as the first measure of p. 3, unless you're feeling more adventurous:
http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/2/24/Pergolesi_09_Sancta_mater.pdf
You can take a listen here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0zw4GfuclCc
If you only look at the solo parts (up to the top of p. 3, as indicated), you can use the key of E-flat for the entire soprano solo and B-flat for the entire alto solo. This will mean that you have to cope with one little chromatic syllable (the same one in both parts), but I bet you'll be fine.
I'd advise you to work through the rhythm first, one vocal line at a time - conducting is your friend!
Are there common motives between the soprano and alto lines? What makes them easy? What makes them difficult?
If you do decide to go on to the true duet section, be advised that you'll be traveling in the flat direction around the circle of fifths, and that you'll need to watch out for excursions to minor keys.
Rising Level 3's
Look at this little gem:
http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/images/7/79/Pergolesi_08_Fac_ut_ardeat.pdf
I know it looks long, but I bet you can work your way through it little by little...
You can listen to it here (at ramming speed, but with a wicked countertenor!):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnOmk_wAo8c
And here (with a boys' choir, at a much more moderate clip)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afPj4dSuR1Y&feature=related
I'd advise you to print out the score and listen first, then mark the places where the material is repeated.
Once you've set up a little form scheme for yourself, check out the key centers....it does travel a little , but never very far afield. I bet you can puzzle it out.
From there, use your tonal and form schemes to guide your study of the piece. How will you break it up? Would working backwards be a good approach? Are the voice parts roughly equal? Will you count in 4 or in 2? Will going slow actually be helpful or not? You're in charge!
Rising Level 4's
For you, something a little different:
http://imslp.info/files/imglnks/usimg/9/9e/IMSLP42945-PMLP33670-Strauss--Op_37_6_Lieder.pdf
Check out the first song in the set. You can read the incredibly sweet translation of the text here:
http://www.recmusic.org/lieder/get_text.html?TextId=10228
And you can listen to a recording here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRNbjDzBBGw
Once you've had a listen, try your hand at figuring out key areas for the vocal line. If you get stuck, looking at the piano line might be somewhat helpful. There's definitely some enharmonic and remote stuff going on -- and isn't it magic how it all works out in the end?
Make some decisions about the solfa, and try to sing through sections unaccompanied. Once individual key areas feel reasonably secure, try stringing them together. See if you can make it through the whole piece unaccompanied, but in the right keys -- it's a bit of a feat, I must say!
Enjoy!
Sunday, October 2, 2011
A Way around It
Happy Sunday, Solfa Adventurers!
October is here, but it's still short-and-sandal weather in Colorado, with delightful cardigan mornings and evenings. Autumn is making quite a positive impression on me this year, I must say!
Many of you know that I've embarked on the adventure of a gluten-free diet (until recently, it's been gluten-free pescatarian, but on the advice of my alternative health practitioner, I've now introduced small amounts of super-humanely-raised-you-can-request-a-picture-and-personal-history-of-the-bird-to-confirm-it-had-a-happy-life chicken...quite a change for me), which has necessitated something of a paradigm shift in what it means to put together a meal. However, it's a LOT easier to do this kind of thing now than it used to be, I believe, especially since lots of other people are on similar journeys and talking about it in interesting and helpful ways.
http://www.elanaspantry.com/
http://www.thenourishinggourmet.com/fresh-nourishing-salads-for-all-seasons
Tons of information is out there -- you just have to be willing to look for it, and be willing to embrace a different way of going about the procedure of everyday things. Is it convenient? Not really. However, does it give you an opportunity to grow? Undoubtedly. And, the experience of exploration opens you to new delights, treats and treasures that people who walk the path more-traveled-by don't get to see.
As I've been dipping my toes into new dietary waters, I've been fortunate to have a parallel experience, but from the perspective of the guide rather than the tenderfoot explorer. Several intrepid and delightful women have been studying music fundamentals with me over the past few months, and we've been having tons of fun. As I mentioned last week, new information takes time to sink in, and that tends to worry us unnecessarily. Additionally, I have increasingly come to believe the "direct path" is a myth. Sometimes we get lucky, and the first time we explain something, it sinks in for the learner. However, in the world of music, almost nothing works like that. Multiple modes of operation, conflicting vocabulary, redundant synonyms (how many ways can you think of to say/describe "half step"....it's just plain sick to have that many ways to say the same thing), an ancient notational system, all within a culture where many of our most handsomely compensated "musicians" boast of having no formal training and no knowledge of any of the above -- these are some serious learning barriers. Anyone who makes it in the door despite all of that (especially as a grownup) is worthy of a big dollop of respect in my book, and they deserve to have a teacher who can show them more than one way to navigate through the choppy waters of determining the quality of an interval, unraveling the mysteries of the circle of fifths, constructing the three forms of the minor scale, etc. And, while it's a difficult task to do what we're doing, and many people would consider it more trouble than it's worth for a person who is pursuing music as an amateur, the expressions of empowerment and pride and good old-fashioned geekiness I've seen and heard out of these students have convinced me that this is worth it for them. Sometimes it's just a matter of repetition. More often, it's a matter of repetition from a variety of perspectives, taking a whole panoply of routes past one point of interest until it becomes a landmark, and then adding more landmarks, then determining the spatial/conceptual relationship of one landmark to the others, then creating a map of an ever-larger hunk of musical geography incrementally over time. In this way, being a teacher is sort of like being a human GPS device...and sometimes road closures or human error or bad neighborhoods or new developments make us say "recalculating" about 9000 times along the way, which can be annoying, but it's our job. We're the ones who already have a pretty good map (even though we, too, are always learning), good enough that we can find a way around it.
So, this week:
All Levels
Take a look at Ottman, chapter 2. Yes, I'm serious.
Read pp. 12-13. Now, take yourself back to your earliest sight-singing experience and think through what else your teacher would have needed to say in order for all of this prose to make sense to you. Did you know what a major scale was? Did you know what half steps and whole steps were? How would you define them for someone (like your former self) who had been singing them forever, but who didn't know what they were or why they were called that or why they had other names? Would you use a keyboard?
After thinking through these issues (and others that might come up along the same lines), create a procedure for teaching an older beginner basic sight-singing using the material in Ottman, chapter 2. For the purposes of the exercise, you may assume that the imaginary student already has a basic understanding of rhythms and meters.
Now, if you're curious, empirically minded, or if you have a willing victim/captive audience handy, it might be interesting and fun to try out your strategies on a real live person. In fact, I highly recommend it -- that person will inevitably teach you far more than I can. If your handiest student is a bit beyond chapter 2 skills, adapt your strategies and the material to the situation. Notice what surprises you. Delight in your student's successes. Be creative in your descriptions and your problem-solving. As you think on your feet, remember what it's like not to know. Recalculate as needed.
Enjoy!
October is here, but it's still short-and-sandal weather in Colorado, with delightful cardigan mornings and evenings. Autumn is making quite a positive impression on me this year, I must say!
Many of you know that I've embarked on the adventure of a gluten-free diet (until recently, it's been gluten-free pescatarian, but on the advice of my alternative health practitioner, I've now introduced small amounts of super-humanely-raised-you-can-request-a-picture-and-personal-history-of-the-bird-to-confirm-it-had-a-happy-life chicken...quite a change for me), which has necessitated something of a paradigm shift in what it means to put together a meal. However, it's a LOT easier to do this kind of thing now than it used to be, I believe, especially since lots of other people are on similar journeys and talking about it in interesting and helpful ways.
http://www.elanaspantry.com/
http://www.thenourishinggourmet.com/fresh-nourishing-salads-for-all-seasons
Tons of information is out there -- you just have to be willing to look for it, and be willing to embrace a different way of going about the procedure of everyday things. Is it convenient? Not really. However, does it give you an opportunity to grow? Undoubtedly. And, the experience of exploration opens you to new delights, treats and treasures that people who walk the path more-traveled-by don't get to see.
As I've been dipping my toes into new dietary waters, I've been fortunate to have a parallel experience, but from the perspective of the guide rather than the tenderfoot explorer. Several intrepid and delightful women have been studying music fundamentals with me over the past few months, and we've been having tons of fun. As I mentioned last week, new information takes time to sink in, and that tends to worry us unnecessarily. Additionally, I have increasingly come to believe the "direct path" is a myth. Sometimes we get lucky, and the first time we explain something, it sinks in for the learner. However, in the world of music, almost nothing works like that. Multiple modes of operation, conflicting vocabulary, redundant synonyms (how many ways can you think of to say/describe "half step"....it's just plain sick to have that many ways to say the same thing), an ancient notational system, all within a culture where many of our most handsomely compensated "musicians" boast of having no formal training and no knowledge of any of the above -- these are some serious learning barriers. Anyone who makes it in the door despite all of that (especially as a grownup) is worthy of a big dollop of respect in my book, and they deserve to have a teacher who can show them more than one way to navigate through the choppy waters of determining the quality of an interval, unraveling the mysteries of the circle of fifths, constructing the three forms of the minor scale, etc. And, while it's a difficult task to do what we're doing, and many people would consider it more trouble than it's worth for a person who is pursuing music as an amateur, the expressions of empowerment and pride and good old-fashioned geekiness I've seen and heard out of these students have convinced me that this is worth it for them. Sometimes it's just a matter of repetition. More often, it's a matter of repetition from a variety of perspectives, taking a whole panoply of routes past one point of interest until it becomes a landmark, and then adding more landmarks, then determining the spatial/conceptual relationship of one landmark to the others, then creating a map of an ever-larger hunk of musical geography incrementally over time. In this way, being a teacher is sort of like being a human GPS device...and sometimes road closures or human error or bad neighborhoods or new developments make us say "recalculating" about 9000 times along the way, which can be annoying, but it's our job. We're the ones who already have a pretty good map (even though we, too, are always learning), good enough that we can find a way around it.
So, this week:
All Levels
Take a look at Ottman, chapter 2. Yes, I'm serious.
Read pp. 12-13. Now, take yourself back to your earliest sight-singing experience and think through what else your teacher would have needed to say in order for all of this prose to make sense to you. Did you know what a major scale was? Did you know what half steps and whole steps were? How would you define them for someone (like your former self) who had been singing them forever, but who didn't know what they were or why they were called that or why they had other names? Would you use a keyboard?
After thinking through these issues (and others that might come up along the same lines), create a procedure for teaching an older beginner basic sight-singing using the material in Ottman, chapter 2. For the purposes of the exercise, you may assume that the imaginary student already has a basic understanding of rhythms and meters.
Now, if you're curious, empirically minded, or if you have a willing victim/captive audience handy, it might be interesting and fun to try out your strategies on a real live person. In fact, I highly recommend it -- that person will inevitably teach you far more than I can. If your handiest student is a bit beyond chapter 2 skills, adapt your strategies and the material to the situation. Notice what surprises you. Delight in your student's successes. Be creative in your descriptions and your problem-solving. As you think on your feet, remember what it's like not to know. Recalculate as needed.
Enjoy!
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