Greetings from a prodigal blogger!
My, how time flies. It's the last day of April, and a perfect spring day in Colorado -- this evening's post is being typed outdoors in celebration.
Degree work has been quite frenzied over the past two weeks, and there's been a heavy dollop of concertizing on top of that, the most recent of which was with the community chorus conducted by one of my very dearest friends. He was short a soprano in his chamber group, so I filled in, and was thereby privy to two performances of a concert he'd entitled "The People's Chorus," a title I absolutely love...I find the concept inspiring. Too many people believe that music-making is a rarified-air kind of activity, that people who are musicians had to grow up in a special kind of family or live a special kind of life -- that musicians are born, not made, and you either are one or you're not. You either have a good voice or you don't. You either read music or you can't. How sad, especially in a world where people like Kodály have worked hard to get the message out: Music belongs to everyone. Art is a birthright, a necessity, something everyone can make and learn about and benefit from. Lots of people still don't believe this, and you'd think that a university town would have a greater proportion of people who do, who are courageous enough to be willing to take hold of their artistic inheritance and do something with it. And, to its credit, this particular university town does have many enthusiasts for the arts in various forms. However, the "rarified air" mentality is still hard to combat, maybe because it's either a cultural or a human tendency (and an extremely powerful one, either way) to choose to believe that one cannot learn/grow/change in order to fend off the guilt of not trying. So, we tend to stay the same....we dabble and form opinions, but we never really get down and dirty and comfortable with who we are so we can make a proper start toward who we'd like to be. Just think what would be possible if this were not the case!
One of the more magical parts of these concerts was a piece composed by another friend of mine on a text attributed to F.G. Lorca:
"The poem, the song, the picture, is only water drawn from the well of the people, and it should be given back to them in a cup of beauty so that they may drink - and in drinking understand themselves."
To my knowledge, Kodály and Lorca never interacted, but it definitely sounds like they were on the same page, doesn't it? However, perhaps Lorca reveals something of the Catch-22 involved here: by engaging with art, people come to understand themselves. But, without a pre-existing connection to their truest selves, how will they come to art to begin with? How will they recognize the solution to their thirst if they haven't acknowledged the thirst? This is the crux, and perhaps the hardest part of the musician's task. Obviously, the solution of teaching the very young to value art is the best one for our future, and it's usually a pretty short reach to get kids to be and express their true selves. But, what about the grownups? How can we reach out to them? Classical musicians can't out-spend Mark Zuckerberg or ABC, so how do we pry the public away from Facebook and "Dancing with the Stars" and get them out to a concert hall or a rehearsal or a class or a private lesson?
It strikes me that the answer may be "one at a time," but I think there might be something even closer to us that we must consider. In order to be compelling, in order to make art and teach lessons that are worth experiencing, we ourselves must be in touch with what compels us. In order to change the world, we need to lead by example. Heavy, I know, but necessary and beautiful....and maybe even sometimes fun. As mentioned above, kids are almost always rarin' to go on the authenticity-honest-self front, and they don't ever like to not have a good time.
So, despite the fact that you poor darlings haven't had a "real" assignment in weeks, I'm going to go with this as your task for the week:
All Levels
Spend time this week feeding your inner artist. For more specific advice, look here.
Spend time this week thinking about how you'd like to impact your community through music-making and teaching. Dream wildly. Imagine that money is no object. Be extravagant.
Feel free to email or call me up with your ideas -- 'tis the season for big dreams and brainstorming.
Also, get ready next week for the start of pre-AKI Solfa Boot Camp (my new idea for May and June). I'll be taking requests for specific areas you'd like to address, so again, feel free to email!
Showing posts with label mundane epiphanies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mundane epiphanies. Show all posts
Monday, April 30, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Choose to Bless the World
Greetings, dear friends!
Well, it's happened....I got older today -- a nice prime number this time around, and have had a great day of feeling extremely loved and remembered. What more could a person want?
It's been a busy weekend (ergo the late post!), but a good one, filled in part with rehearsals with my beloved Denver Gay Men's Chorus. They're prepping for a very exciting collaboration at the moment, and one of the pieces they've begun rehearsing has struck quite a chord with me, especially as a new year of life begins. The piece is "Choose to Bless the World" by Nick Page, and is based on three divergent somewhat unlikely elements: Page's own arrangement of "Niska Banja," a poem by a Unitarian Universalist minister named Rebecca Parker, and Michael Praetorius' well-known canon "Jubilate Deo" -- you can listen to/watch a recording of one of my new favorite people conducting it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xabP5G-Q1A
(I know, it has the Lentenly forbidden A-word, but try to forgive me...)
The full text of the poem is this:
Your gifts
whatever you discover them to be
can be used to bless or curse the world.
The mind's power,
The strength of the hands,
The reaches of the heart,
the gift of speaking, listening, imagining, seeing, waiting
Any of these can serve to feed the hungry,
bind up wounds,
welcome the stranger,
praise what is sacred,
do the work of justice
or offer love.
Any of these can draw down the prison door
hoard bread,
abandon the poor,
obscure what is holy,
comply with injustice
or withhold love.
You must answer this question:
What will you do with your gifts?
Choose to bless the world.
Cynicism and exhaustion are by-products of almost any graduate program, I think (and as many of my AKI students will likely attest), and it can be hard to remember that we still have a choice. We don't have to buy into the drama that our little grad program worlds tend to create. Or, if we do, we can catch ourselves and make a new choice. The circumstances of our lives are what they are, and on days when we're feeling the burn, it can be so hard to remember this, but we still have a choice. In every moment, no matter how crappy we think we are, no matter how hard things have been, no matter how little we think we have to offer, the choice is still there. We can choose to bless the world....and the secret wonder of making that choice is that it doesn't take anything away from us to do this. Our egos and bone-weariness might convince us that trying to bless the world is like trying to get blood from a turnip. But, it's not a matter of trying. It's a matter of choosing to honor what we already are in a state of being....we are each and all a blessing to the world.
So, if you have the energy and the inclination, there are lots of cool things you could transcribe from the recording above, or you could teach yourself to hand-sign the canon in two parts (or three -- one with your voice and one with each hand), or you could always catch up on your sight-singing. However, the assignment I'm going to work hard to embrace this week and in the coming year is this:
All Levels:
Choose to bless the world.
Well, it's happened....I got older today -- a nice prime number this time around, and have had a great day of feeling extremely loved and remembered. What more could a person want?
It's been a busy weekend (ergo the late post!), but a good one, filled in part with rehearsals with my beloved Denver Gay Men's Chorus. They're prepping for a very exciting collaboration at the moment, and one of the pieces they've begun rehearsing has struck quite a chord with me, especially as a new year of life begins. The piece is "Choose to Bless the World" by Nick Page, and is based on three divergent somewhat unlikely elements: Page's own arrangement of "Niska Banja," a poem by a Unitarian Universalist minister named Rebecca Parker, and Michael Praetorius' well-known canon "Jubilate Deo" -- you can listen to/watch a recording of one of my new favorite people conducting it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xabP5G-Q1A
(I know, it has the Lentenly forbidden A-word, but try to forgive me...)
The full text of the poem is this:
Your gifts
whatever you discover them to be
can be used to bless or curse the world.
The mind's power,
The strength of the hands,
The reaches of the heart,
the gift of speaking, listening, imagining, seeing, waiting
Any of these can serve to feed the hungry,
bind up wounds,
welcome the stranger,
praise what is sacred,
do the work of justice
or offer love.
Any of these can draw down the prison door
hoard bread,
abandon the poor,
obscure what is holy,
comply with injustice
or withhold love.
You must answer this question:
What will you do with your gifts?
Choose to bless the world.
Cynicism and exhaustion are by-products of almost any graduate program, I think (and as many of my AKI students will likely attest), and it can be hard to remember that we still have a choice. We don't have to buy into the drama that our little grad program worlds tend to create. Or, if we do, we can catch ourselves and make a new choice. The circumstances of our lives are what they are, and on days when we're feeling the burn, it can be so hard to remember this, but we still have a choice. In every moment, no matter how crappy we think we are, no matter how hard things have been, no matter how little we think we have to offer, the choice is still there. We can choose to bless the world....and the secret wonder of making that choice is that it doesn't take anything away from us to do this. Our egos and bone-weariness might convince us that trying to bless the world is like trying to get blood from a turnip. But, it's not a matter of trying. It's a matter of choosing to honor what we already are in a state of being....we are each and all a blessing to the world.
So, if you have the energy and the inclination, there are lots of cool things you could transcribe from the recording above, or you could teach yourself to hand-sign the canon in two parts (or three -- one with your voice and one with each hand), or you could always catch up on your sight-singing. However, the assignment I'm going to work hard to embrace this week and in the coming year is this:
All Levels:
Choose to bless the world.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Holding steady
Hello, stalwart solfeggists!
It's been a crazy week in my world, and the weekend has left me with very little room to breathe. So, this week's installment will be short, but (hopefully) pithy.
In your Ottman book, chapter 18 is all about forbidding-looking rhythms, specifically, those that use very small divisions of the beat. Recently, I've been teaching some rhythmically challenging pieces in choral contexts, and it's once again come to my attention that many folks use a repetitive physical gesture (foot or hand-tapping, usually) when they encounter any sort of rhythmic difficulty, and they usually try to tap to a pretty small rhythmic value. I understand the inclination to do this, but I'm quite opposed to it. Why?
-We tend to be taught as children that our western rhythmic system is based on mathematical operations, and that's not really true (I mean, it's factual in a way to say that rhythm is mathematical, but math is not nearly as influential on our experience of rhythm as we think it is). Our rhythmic system is extremely influenced by hierarchy, and it is hierarchy that makes a rhythmic pattern feel how it feels to us. Therefore, if we don't reflect hierarchy in any aid we use to read a rhythm, we're sabotaging ourselves.
-Tapping a small rhythmic value as your "beat" the same way over and over (without any kind of hierarchy) is a recipe for getting lost. Your brain barely has a fighting chance of keeping track of all that repetitive motion, despite what your sense of security might be trying to tell you. We tend to feel like we're being more accurate because we're doing something, but the something we're doing in this case is likely to just distract us from inaccuracies.
-Rhythmic patterns aren't made difficult by speed, they're made difficult by unpredictability or unfamiliarity. So, slowing something far past the point of its intended tempo is probably less useful than we think -- the composer heard it inside her/his head as a pattern that made sense at a given tempo, and if we get too far away from that tempo, the pattern doesn't feel the same way anymore.
-Our brains aren't wired to perceive quick notes as isolated incidents, but rather as elements of a pattern that has a specific interplay within an established hierarchy.
Now, these rules start to fall apart if you start working with some types of early music or 20th/21st-century serialized rhythms or rhythms chosen through chance operations, etc., but the Ottman examples we're dealing with here definitely play by these rules. So, I'm going to insist on a few things:
1. Conduct. This doesn't necessarily have to be a traditional hand/arm pattern, but you have to do something with your body that shows the beats of the measure in distinct places AND gives a sense of which beats are strong in the hierarchy of the meter and which are not. For example, if you were to use your foot in a 2/4 meter, you could decide that your heel touching the ground would be beat 1 and your toe touching the ground would be beat 2.
2. Don't stray too far from the notated tempo. A conservative tempo is one thing, but if you're thinking in 32nd notes, the rhythm you think you're performing has nothing to do with the actual piece of music the composer wrote (unless it's in 3/32 or some such craziness).
3. If you're struggling with notes and rhythms together, isolate the rhythm.
4. Think in groupings and phrases, not in isolated note values. Start to see that the last sixteenth note of a beat will feel like a pickup to (or a decoration of) the beat that follows, etc. Just like in the world of pitches, the magic of rhythmic patterns has everything to do with the relationships being expressed.
5. Trust your body. Before you begin reading each example, take the time to really ground yourself in the the meter by moving (see item 1). Once you've started reading, if something seems wrong, see if you can figure out a reason -- it might just be a mistake, or it might be a misplaced metric accent, or an unusual phrase length, etc. Trust that your body knows how a good, solid 4/4 ought to feel, even if it's slow, and if something happens to upset your expectations, be a good detective and figure out why.
Rising Level 2's
Try your hands/feet/voices at these...ignore any grace notes:
18.1 & 18.2
18.12 & 18.13
18.16
18.17 (make sure you look carefully at the key)
18.22
18.29
Rising Level 3's
Give these your best shot:
18.18
18.19
18.21
18.23
18.25 (don't let the sixteenth rests freak you out)
18.26
Rising Level 4's
Your examples are longer and more complex, so you can spread them out over multiple days as you see fit:
18.30
18.31
18.32
18.34
So, hold steady and don't let the little notes scare you -- they're just a decorative part of the whole, and if you approach them calmly, they'll fall into place.
PS: It looks like I lied about this post being short...sometimes that happens when we get going, I guess...my apologies!
It's been a crazy week in my world, and the weekend has left me with very little room to breathe. So, this week's installment will be short, but (hopefully) pithy.
In your Ottman book, chapter 18 is all about forbidding-looking rhythms, specifically, those that use very small divisions of the beat. Recently, I've been teaching some rhythmically challenging pieces in choral contexts, and it's once again come to my attention that many folks use a repetitive physical gesture (foot or hand-tapping, usually) when they encounter any sort of rhythmic difficulty, and they usually try to tap to a pretty small rhythmic value. I understand the inclination to do this, but I'm quite opposed to it. Why?
-We tend to be taught as children that our western rhythmic system is based on mathematical operations, and that's not really true (I mean, it's factual in a way to say that rhythm is mathematical, but math is not nearly as influential on our experience of rhythm as we think it is). Our rhythmic system is extremely influenced by hierarchy, and it is hierarchy that makes a rhythmic pattern feel how it feels to us. Therefore, if we don't reflect hierarchy in any aid we use to read a rhythm, we're sabotaging ourselves.
-Tapping a small rhythmic value as your "beat" the same way over and over (without any kind of hierarchy) is a recipe for getting lost. Your brain barely has a fighting chance of keeping track of all that repetitive motion, despite what your sense of security might be trying to tell you. We tend to feel like we're being more accurate because we're doing something, but the something we're doing in this case is likely to just distract us from inaccuracies.
-Rhythmic patterns aren't made difficult by speed, they're made difficult by unpredictability or unfamiliarity. So, slowing something far past the point of its intended tempo is probably less useful than we think -- the composer heard it inside her/his head as a pattern that made sense at a given tempo, and if we get too far away from that tempo, the pattern doesn't feel the same way anymore.
-Our brains aren't wired to perceive quick notes as isolated incidents, but rather as elements of a pattern that has a specific interplay within an established hierarchy.
Now, these rules start to fall apart if you start working with some types of early music or 20th/21st-century serialized rhythms or rhythms chosen through chance operations, etc., but the Ottman examples we're dealing with here definitely play by these rules. So, I'm going to insist on a few things:
1. Conduct. This doesn't necessarily have to be a traditional hand/arm pattern, but you have to do something with your body that shows the beats of the measure in distinct places AND gives a sense of which beats are strong in the hierarchy of the meter and which are not. For example, if you were to use your foot in a 2/4 meter, you could decide that your heel touching the ground would be beat 1 and your toe touching the ground would be beat 2.
2. Don't stray too far from the notated tempo. A conservative tempo is one thing, but if you're thinking in 32nd notes, the rhythm you think you're performing has nothing to do with the actual piece of music the composer wrote (unless it's in 3/32 or some such craziness).
3. If you're struggling with notes and rhythms together, isolate the rhythm.
4. Think in groupings and phrases, not in isolated note values. Start to see that the last sixteenth note of a beat will feel like a pickup to (or a decoration of) the beat that follows, etc. Just like in the world of pitches, the magic of rhythmic patterns has everything to do with the relationships being expressed.
5. Trust your body. Before you begin reading each example, take the time to really ground yourself in the the meter by moving (see item 1). Once you've started reading, if something seems wrong, see if you can figure out a reason -- it might just be a mistake, or it might be a misplaced metric accent, or an unusual phrase length, etc. Trust that your body knows how a good, solid 4/4 ought to feel, even if it's slow, and if something happens to upset your expectations, be a good detective and figure out why.
Rising Level 2's
Try your hands/feet/voices at these...ignore any grace notes:
18.1 & 18.2
18.12 & 18.13
18.16
18.17 (make sure you look carefully at the key)
18.22
18.29
Rising Level 3's
Give these your best shot:
18.18
18.19
18.21
18.23
18.25 (don't let the sixteenth rests freak you out)
18.26
Rising Level 4's
Your examples are longer and more complex, so you can spread them out over multiple days as you see fit:
18.30
18.31
18.32
18.34
So, hold steady and don't let the little notes scare you -- they're just a decorative part of the whole, and if you approach them calmly, they'll fall into place.
PS: It looks like I lied about this post being short...sometimes that happens when we get going, I guess...my apologies!
Sunday, February 12, 2012
O tell me the truth about love
Greetings, much-loved solfeggists!
First, in honor of Valentine's Day, please indulge me in reading the following by one of my all-time favorite poets, W.H. Auden. Benjamin Britten set it and three of Auden's other poems about love in his "Cabaret Songs" -- you can follow this link to hear a performance of all four songs (the audio quality isn't the best....sorry!).
Some say that love's a little boy, and some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go round, and some say that's absurd:
But when I asked the man next door who looked as if he knew,
His wife grew very cross indeed and said it wouldn't do.
Does it look like a pair of pyjamas or the ham in a temperance hotel?
O tell me the truth about love.
Does its odour remind one of llamas, or has it a comforting smell?
O tell me the truth about love.
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is, or soft as an eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.
I looked inside the summerhouse, it wasn't ever there,
I've tried the Thames at Maidenhead and Brighton's bracing air;
I don't know what the blackbird sang or what the roses said,
But it wasn't in the chicken run or underneath the bed.
Can it pull extraordinary faces? Is it usually sick on a swing?
O tell me the truth about love.
Does it spend all its time at the races, or fiddling with pieces of string?
O tell me the truth about love.
Has it views of its own about money? Does it think patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar, but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.
Your feelings when you meet it, I am told, you can't forget,
I've sought it since I was a child but haven't found it yet;
I'm getting on for thirty-five, and still I do not know
What kind of creature it can be that bothers people so.
When it comes, will it come without warning, just as I'm picking my nose?
O tell me the truth about love.
Will it knock on my door in the morning, or tread in the bus on my toes?
O tell me the truth about love.
Will it come like a change in the weather? Will its greeting be courteous or bluff?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.
Clearly, Auden isn't being too serious about all this (ergo the allusion to nose-picking), but his request is well-taken. We've all been enculturated into the rosiest of illusions about love, courtesy of the Disney princesses, Hallmark, eHarmony, etc. We've also seen the reality of our own and others' relationships, and the cognitive dissonance between the illusory and the real can be hard to take. In particular, I've been noticing that this concept of the ideal often prevents people from having the guts to talk about what's real (and what's really bothering us) because we feel guilty that we haven't managed somehow to magick fantasy into reality. Then, we get resentful because things drift ever further away from the way we want them to be, and it becomes harder and harder to salvage whatever's gone wrong. Luckily, no one has a perfect memory, and we all forget many of our disappointments, which turns into a kind of accidental forgiveness....but it's clear that this isn't a real solution, and sometimes it isn't so easy to wait until the feelings pass.
My rising level 3's will remember me saying several times this summer:
Solfa is like therapy. When you talk about your problems, it becomes a lot easier to solve them.
I'd like to add to that:
Your relationship to your own ideal musical self is like any other relationship. It doesn't thrive because you feel fuzzy about it. It thrives because you work on it.
This is not to say that you shouldn't enjoy the work. Lucky for us, there's a lot to love about being a musician, and we should strive to immerse ourselves in the most satisfying parts of that as often as we can, whether that's performing, listening, composing, whatever. But, there's also spinach to be eaten...and we can't expect to be virtuosi if we shy away from the aspects of our musicianship that fall short. We have to be honest about them. We have to talk about them. We have to give them some attention, and be ok with the fact that it might be intellectually and emotionally difficult in the short run. But, if we believe it's worth it, we have to try.
All Levels:
Take a look at this love song by Hans Leo Hassler:
http://www3.cpdl.org/wiki/images/sheet/hassler/hass-gmu.pdf
The gist of the text is, "Woe is me, I'm in love with someone too good for me..."
Sing through the melody first, and then as many of the harmony parts as you care to tackle.
Memorize the melody
Do a chordal analysis (rising 2's, do as much as you dare) -- you can take your pick of solfa chords (meaning that you start with a Do major) or Roman numerals.
Then, look at this setting of essentially the same melody:
http://www.saengerkreis-bamberg.de/noten/geistlich/passion/Bach_WennIchEinmalSollScheiden.pdf
Sing through the parts, and do a Roman numeral analysis (again, as you are able).
The text of this verse of the chorale (taken from Bach's St. Matthew Passion, and this harmonization is sung just after Christ dies) is:
When I must once and for all depart,
then do not depart from me;
when I must suffer death,
then stand by me;
when my heart will be
most fearful,
then snatch me from the terrors
by the virtue of your own fear and pain!
....and suddenly it's a whole other kind of love song. You can listen to it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8Q6rxdPT7A
And finally, to answer Mr. Auden's question:
Love is little, love is low
Love will make my spirit grow
Grow in peace, grow in light,
Love will do the thing that's right.
(Shaker Hymn)
Happy Valentine's Day!
First, in honor of Valentine's Day, please indulge me in reading the following by one of my all-time favorite poets, W.H. Auden. Benjamin Britten set it and three of Auden's other poems about love in his "Cabaret Songs" -- you can follow this link to hear a performance of all four songs (the audio quality isn't the best....sorry!).
Some say that love's a little boy, and some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go round, and some say that's absurd:
But when I asked the man next door who looked as if he knew,
His wife grew very cross indeed and said it wouldn't do.
Does it look like a pair of pyjamas or the ham in a temperance hotel?
O tell me the truth about love.
Does its odour remind one of llamas, or has it a comforting smell?
O tell me the truth about love.
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is, or soft as an eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.
I looked inside the summerhouse, it wasn't ever there,
I've tried the Thames at Maidenhead and Brighton's bracing air;
I don't know what the blackbird sang or what the roses said,
But it wasn't in the chicken run or underneath the bed.
Can it pull extraordinary faces? Is it usually sick on a swing?
O tell me the truth about love.
Does it spend all its time at the races, or fiddling with pieces of string?
O tell me the truth about love.
Has it views of its own about money? Does it think patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar, but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.
Your feelings when you meet it, I am told, you can't forget,
I've sought it since I was a child but haven't found it yet;
I'm getting on for thirty-five, and still I do not know
What kind of creature it can be that bothers people so.
When it comes, will it come without warning, just as I'm picking my nose?
O tell me the truth about love.
Will it knock on my door in the morning, or tread in the bus on my toes?
O tell me the truth about love.
Will it come like a change in the weather? Will its greeting be courteous or bluff?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.
Clearly, Auden isn't being too serious about all this (ergo the allusion to nose-picking), but his request is well-taken. We've all been enculturated into the rosiest of illusions about love, courtesy of the Disney princesses, Hallmark, eHarmony, etc. We've also seen the reality of our own and others' relationships, and the cognitive dissonance between the illusory and the real can be hard to take. In particular, I've been noticing that this concept of the ideal often prevents people from having the guts to talk about what's real (and what's really bothering us) because we feel guilty that we haven't managed somehow to magick fantasy into reality. Then, we get resentful because things drift ever further away from the way we want them to be, and it becomes harder and harder to salvage whatever's gone wrong. Luckily, no one has a perfect memory, and we all forget many of our disappointments, which turns into a kind of accidental forgiveness....but it's clear that this isn't a real solution, and sometimes it isn't so easy to wait until the feelings pass.
My rising level 3's will remember me saying several times this summer:
Solfa is like therapy. When you talk about your problems, it becomes a lot easier to solve them.
I'd like to add to that:
Your relationship to your own ideal musical self is like any other relationship. It doesn't thrive because you feel fuzzy about it. It thrives because you work on it.
This is not to say that you shouldn't enjoy the work. Lucky for us, there's a lot to love about being a musician, and we should strive to immerse ourselves in the most satisfying parts of that as often as we can, whether that's performing, listening, composing, whatever. But, there's also spinach to be eaten...and we can't expect to be virtuosi if we shy away from the aspects of our musicianship that fall short. We have to be honest about them. We have to talk about them. We have to give them some attention, and be ok with the fact that it might be intellectually and emotionally difficult in the short run. But, if we believe it's worth it, we have to try.
All Levels:
Take a look at this love song by Hans Leo Hassler:
http://www3.cpdl.org/wiki/images/sheet/hassler/hass-gmu.pdf
The gist of the text is, "Woe is me, I'm in love with someone too good for me..."
Sing through the melody first, and then as many of the harmony parts as you care to tackle.
Memorize the melody
Do a chordal analysis (rising 2's, do as much as you dare) -- you can take your pick of solfa chords (meaning that you start with a Do major) or Roman numerals.
Then, look at this setting of essentially the same melody:
http://www.saengerkreis-bamberg.de/noten/geistlich/passion/Bach_WennIchEinmalSollScheiden.pdf
Sing through the parts, and do a Roman numeral analysis (again, as you are able).
The text of this verse of the chorale (taken from Bach's St. Matthew Passion, and this harmonization is sung just after Christ dies) is:
When I must once and for all depart,
then do not depart from me;
when I must suffer death,
then stand by me;
when my heart will be
most fearful,
then snatch me from the terrors
by the virtue of your own fear and pain!
....and suddenly it's a whole other kind of love song. You can listen to it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8Q6rxdPT7A
And finally, to answer Mr. Auden's question:
Love is little, love is low
Love will make my spirit grow
Grow in peace, grow in light,
Love will do the thing that's right.
(Shaker Hymn)
Happy Valentine's Day!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
The Power of Suggestion
Greetings from snow-blanketed Denver!
The Universe gave me the unexpected gift of a snow day yesterday -- despite my disappointment in the cancellation/delay of conference events at my British Studies gig, I must confess how badly I'd needed a real day off.
A little time to think and gather myself, plus a few conversations with my graduate colleagues and some of my private students, have brought the article below back to my mind:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/krulwich/2011/12/07/143265882/vowels-control-your-brain?sc=fb&cc=fp
The gist of the article is this: front vowels ([i], [I], [e], [E]) tend to imply smallness or lightness, and back vowels ([u], [o], [a]) tend to imply heaviness or largeness. Obviously, this isn't completely universal, but there are definitely some pretty convincing examples in the article.
What does this have to do with solfa, you ask? Well...I have a bit of a pet theory that I can't exactly prove yet that Guido's choice of syllables (and the later evolution of our modern syllables, including chromatics) wasn't merely coincidental with the beginning of each line of the chant Ut queant laxis. I believe the syllables were chosen intuitively and intentionally to phonetically represent both the tendencies and the relative placement of each tone. Furthermore, I believe these vowel choices had some impact on the evolution from a modal to a tonal system.
Here's what I mean -- the original six syllables were ut, re, mi, fa, so, & la. If we go strictly by the rubric above, ut, fa, so, and la fall into the category of back vowels, and re & mi belong to the front vowel category. I would argue that Guido's Italianate [a] would have been more toward the bright (front) side, especially in the case of la, since the dental [l] pulls the tongue forward (resulting in a more fronted vowel). Let's leave fa in the back vowel camp for now, and assume that we now have this situation:
ut (heavy)
re (light)
mi (light)
fa (heavy)
so (heavy)
la (light)
or in the more modern system:
Now, as speakers of American-accented English, we pronounce these syllables differently, so they feel a little different to us, and our pronunciation idiosyncrasies create intonation issues different from the ones likely encountered in 11th-century Italy. If we think carefully about our pronunciation, however, the tendencies of these vowels reflect the proper intonation for a major scale, especially if we designate the vowel [o] as "stable" rather than "heavy" (which seems an allowable substitution to me):
The Universe gave me the unexpected gift of a snow day yesterday -- despite my disappointment in the cancellation/delay of conference events at my British Studies gig, I must confess how badly I'd needed a real day off.
A little time to think and gather myself, plus a few conversations with my graduate colleagues and some of my private students, have brought the article below back to my mind:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/krulwich/2011/12/07/143265882/vowels-control-your-brain?sc=fb&cc=fp
The gist of the article is this: front vowels ([i], [I], [e], [E]) tend to imply smallness or lightness, and back vowels ([u], [o], [a]) tend to imply heaviness or largeness. Obviously, this isn't completely universal, but there are definitely some pretty convincing examples in the article.
What does this have to do with solfa, you ask? Well...I have a bit of a pet theory that I can't exactly prove yet that Guido's choice of syllables (and the later evolution of our modern syllables, including chromatics) wasn't merely coincidental with the beginning of each line of the chant Ut queant laxis. I believe the syllables were chosen intuitively and intentionally to phonetically represent both the tendencies and the relative placement of each tone. Furthermore, I believe these vowel choices had some impact on the evolution from a modal to a tonal system.
Here's what I mean -- the original six syllables were ut, re, mi, fa, so, & la. If we go strictly by the rubric above, ut, fa, so, and la fall into the category of back vowels, and re & mi belong to the front vowel category. I would argue that Guido's Italianate [a] would have been more toward the bright (front) side, especially in the case of la, since the dental [l] pulls the tongue forward (resulting in a more fronted vowel). Let's leave fa in the back vowel camp for now, and assume that we now have this situation:
ut (heavy)
re (light)
mi (light)
fa (heavy)
so (heavy)
la (light)
or in the more modern system:
do (heavy)
re (light)
mi (light)
fa (heavy)
so (heavy)
la (light)
ti (light)
Now, as speakers of American-accented English, we pronounce these syllables differently, so they feel a little different to us, and our pronunciation idiosyncrasies create intonation issues different from the ones likely encountered in 11th-century Italy. If we think carefully about our pronunciation, however, the tendencies of these vowels reflect the proper intonation for a major scale, especially if we designate the vowel [o] as "stable" rather than "heavy" (which seems an allowable substitution to me):
do (stable)
re (light) (note that the resulting do-re-mi 3rd should be wide)
mi (light)
fa (heavy)
so (stable)
la (light)
ti (light)
If this theory holds water, it casts some significant doubts on the pedagogical wisdom of both fixed-do solfege (where the vowels are at least partly contradictory of correct intonation in all keys except C) and do-based minor (where the syllables me, le, & te are used to denote the lowered 3rd, 6th, and 7th scale degrees in minor, and each has a vowel that still implies "highness" -- la to le being particularly egregious). In my earlier years, I felt much more absolute about all this. These days, I'm more willing to acknowledge that vowel influence is probably much stronger for some people than it is for others. However, from an acoustical standpoint, this all seems to hold up, too, and if physical fact gives one system even a small advantage over another, I think that's worth acknowledging. If vowels can suggest to ear and voice that two notes have a certain relationship to one another, why not use the power of suggestion to our students' advantage?
I'm curious to know what you all think about this, and I'd like you to try it out and let me know:
All Levels
Read the NPR article and all my verbiage above.
Track down your Ottman book and read some examples that come easily for you (ch. 2-9, as appropriate). The first time through, sing without thinking much about the syllables -- just sing as you normally would. The second time through, be extremely sensitive to your pronunciation of each syllable. Does your intonation improve? Do you feel an increased sensitivity to the proper intonation of each syllable/interval? If you like, choose a few examples in minor and try singing them once in do-based minor and once in la-based minor, both times with a strong focus on pronunciation. Was it hard to get the intonation of the lowered scale degrees correct in do-based minor? Try singing an example or two in fixed-do (no chromatic inflections, meaning that F-flat, F, and F-sharp are all called fa), still with an eye towards pronunciation. What happens to your intonation?
I'm really quite curious to hear what you discover...
Labels:
do-based minor,
fixed do,
intonation,
mundane epiphanies,
Ottman,
working smarter
Monday, November 7, 2011
Spellbound
Hello, long-lost solfeggists!!
I've missed you all!
So, the long-dreaded written exams are behind, and the oral exam lies ahead, but I can't start studying up for it just yet because I'm still waiting for the written exam to be read and evaluated. Part of me is inclined to be extremely anxious about that, but...well, to be honest, I'm just too darn exhausted to work up the energy for a real academic tizzy. Which, by the by, does not preclude other kinds of tizzies, it seems...
This afternoon, I had the decidedly less-than-pleasant dental experience of my first crown (or as I've euphemistically called it, "tooth tiara"). In the abstract, I am one of those people who really, REALLY dislikes the dentist, but I actually like my current dentist a lot because she takes the time to explain what's going on, and this helps with my generalized anxiety. So, today, shortly after she numbed me up, my whole body started to tingle and my heart started to race and I had that weird panicky feeling that comes with really bad stage fright or getting caught speeding or using an albuterol inhaler....
And then I realized what it was. Dental anesthetic contains epinephrine (they use it as a vasoconstrictor to minimize bleeding), and my dentist had told me about it the last time I was there, but only after the shot had caused me to freak out to the point of nausea and to mistake my reaction for my own emotions about the situation. But, it wasn't my emotions that started the reaction -- I just couldn't rescue myself once I'd already gone over that edge. And it wasn't my emotions this time either, and I remembered before the physical sensations hijacked my higher processing skills. I consciously told myself what it was, and was able to ride it out by taking some deep breaths and listening to my iPod. I caught it before I lost my marbles. I broke the spell.
A deep satisfaction came over me with that realization, and I got to thinking about how we get ourselves all worked up about things because we forget that our problem might actually be caused by something external or easily fixable or temporary, and we invest so much in the freakout that we can't even use the solution when we see it. We're afraid to confront it, afraid to take control, because the emotion of the situation has tied our hands, and we can't see that if we simply chose to be present, the power to change things would be ours. So, for me (and maybe I'm just slow on the uptake for this one), today was a little victory -- Panic may still have a lot more points on the scoreboard, but I know I chalked one up for Team Me today.
Now, like I said above, I might just be a slow learner, but I suspect that most of us struggle with these kinds of emotional spellbindings. In the world of solfa, one of my goofy classroom quotes is:
"Solfa is just like therapy. When you talk about your problems, it makes them a lot easier to solve."
I know that's a little silly, but I think it's also a lot true. How often do we plow over and over and over the same musical ground, refusing to stop, step back, and analyze what's really going on? It takes discipline to do this, but more than that, it requires presentness. Your whole brain and heart and body need to be in it together, in the moment. This is an unusual level of focus -- we don't require it of ourselves very often, and to do so may seem extravagant, wasteful, unnecessary, or at least that's what your rebellious ego might tell you, as it often prefers to be off someplace else, diverting your attention to how you look in your pants today, whether or not you are smart enough, who might think you're talented, blahblahblahblahblah.
So, this week's assignment is a little abstract, which might be a little annoying, but I have a feeling that this might be very worthwhile...
All Levels
In your musical tasks this week, whatever they may be:
Be present.
If you have trouble, stop to assess early, before frustration rears its ugly head.
Rest in the knowledge that you have what you need to be successful.
If you need help, reach out.
Recognize the judgmental voices in your head for what they are. Listen to them when it's appropriate (in the moment of performance or teaching is probably not the time), but be in charge of what you do about them.
If you need to freak out, freak out. That's ok, too.
I've missed you all!
So, the long-dreaded written exams are behind, and the oral exam lies ahead, but I can't start studying up for it just yet because I'm still waiting for the written exam to be read and evaluated. Part of me is inclined to be extremely anxious about that, but...well, to be honest, I'm just too darn exhausted to work up the energy for a real academic tizzy. Which, by the by, does not preclude other kinds of tizzies, it seems...
This afternoon, I had the decidedly less-than-pleasant dental experience of my first crown (or as I've euphemistically called it, "tooth tiara"). In the abstract, I am one of those people who really, REALLY dislikes the dentist, but I actually like my current dentist a lot because she takes the time to explain what's going on, and this helps with my generalized anxiety. So, today, shortly after she numbed me up, my whole body started to tingle and my heart started to race and I had that weird panicky feeling that comes with really bad stage fright or getting caught speeding or using an albuterol inhaler....
And then I realized what it was. Dental anesthetic contains epinephrine (they use it as a vasoconstrictor to minimize bleeding), and my dentist had told me about it the last time I was there, but only after the shot had caused me to freak out to the point of nausea and to mistake my reaction for my own emotions about the situation. But, it wasn't my emotions that started the reaction -- I just couldn't rescue myself once I'd already gone over that edge. And it wasn't my emotions this time either, and I remembered before the physical sensations hijacked my higher processing skills. I consciously told myself what it was, and was able to ride it out by taking some deep breaths and listening to my iPod. I caught it before I lost my marbles. I broke the spell.
A deep satisfaction came over me with that realization, and I got to thinking about how we get ourselves all worked up about things because we forget that our problem might actually be caused by something external or easily fixable or temporary, and we invest so much in the freakout that we can't even use the solution when we see it. We're afraid to confront it, afraid to take control, because the emotion of the situation has tied our hands, and we can't see that if we simply chose to be present, the power to change things would be ours. So, for me (and maybe I'm just slow on the uptake for this one), today was a little victory -- Panic may still have a lot more points on the scoreboard, but I know I chalked one up for Team Me today.
Now, like I said above, I might just be a slow learner, but I suspect that most of us struggle with these kinds of emotional spellbindings. In the world of solfa, one of my goofy classroom quotes is:
"Solfa is just like therapy. When you talk about your problems, it makes them a lot easier to solve."
I know that's a little silly, but I think it's also a lot true. How often do we plow over and over and over the same musical ground, refusing to stop, step back, and analyze what's really going on? It takes discipline to do this, but more than that, it requires presentness. Your whole brain and heart and body need to be in it together, in the moment. This is an unusual level of focus -- we don't require it of ourselves very often, and to do so may seem extravagant, wasteful, unnecessary, or at least that's what your rebellious ego might tell you, as it often prefers to be off someplace else, diverting your attention to how you look in your pants today, whether or not you are smart enough, who might think you're talented, blahblahblahblahblah.
So, this week's assignment is a little abstract, which might be a little annoying, but I have a feeling that this might be very worthwhile...
All Levels
In your musical tasks this week, whatever they may be:
Be present.
If you have trouble, stop to assess early, before frustration rears its ugly head.
Rest in the knowledge that you have what you need to be successful.
If you need help, reach out.
Recognize the judgmental voices in your head for what they are. Listen to them when it's appropriate (in the moment of performance or teaching is probably not the time), but be in charge of what you do about them.
If you need to freak out, freak out. That's ok, too.
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.
Labels:
Buffy,
chromaticism,
daily work,
drills/exercises,
mundane epiphanies,
Ottman
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!
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Course Corrections or Information Marination
Greetings, solfa navigators!
Well, there's no denying it....the equinox has come and gone, and now it's autumn in earnest. The sky has that impossibly blue Colorado summer look here still, but the leaves are starting to turn, slowly but surely.
In my own everyday academic life, I'm up to my eyeballs in studying -- my big doctoral written exams are exactly a month from tomorrow, and while I always swore I'd remain calm when the time came for me to take part in this particular academic ritual, like so many before me, I am eating those words a bit. Gratefulness for the people who remind me of all the reasons why it'll all be ok continues to run high, but sleeping and maintaining focus has already becoming a challenge. However, as difficult as this process is, there's a part of me that enjoys playing Jane Goodall while the rest of me is a bit more like a troop of riled-up chimpanzees, and she's made the following observations:
1. Looking at information that is new or unfamiliar tends to cause the subject (me) to become anxious. However....
2. Repeated viewings improve both the subject's emotional response and her intellectual understanding and retention.
3. Going over information that was formerly familiar to the subject is typically quite successful immediately.
None of this should be a surprise, most likely, but I have to admit -- I'm a little startled at how true it is. Part of me naively insists that I should be able to force-feed myself as much information as I want (familiar or not), and everything should go into a nice little box inside my head and be readily accessible to me thenceforth just because I say so. And it ain't so. As it turns out, being in a hurry just makes it harder. Patience with others is a virtue I've spent a good amount of time cultivating (to varying degrees of success at any given moment), and as I get older, it bothers me less and less to have to repeat myself to my students or my choristers. However, I find myself unaccustomed to being patient with myself -- so it's time for a personal course correction. It's time to make a change. And I'm willing to bet I'm not the only Type A out there in need of this particular lesson. So:
Rising Level 2's
Check out Ottmans 11.33 and 12.39. By the end of the week, I bet you a dollar you can learn to do both of these as sing-and-plays. No, seriously. Breathe. You can totally do this:
First, sing through one voice part at a time. Do this until completely fluent -- give yourself a couple days. Once you're fluent, aim for memory.
When you're nearly memorized on one voice part in each exercise, try tapping the melody of the opposite part from the one you're singing. Go slow if that helps...it may help less than you think. If you find yourself getting metrically lost, you may find it helpful to "conduct" with a foot or sway back and forth...it's a favorite trick of mine, and pretty easy to do in 2/4.
Slowly, add piano. Figure out a hand position and fingering for the part you play that is consistently successful...take the time to be strategic rather than winging it.
Be sure to let me know if I owe you a dollar!
Rising Level 3's
Track down your Classical Canons book and look at #139-166 (all by Cherubini). Before you freak out, I'm not suggesting you read through all of them (unless you want to, of course!). Instead, choose 3: 1 that's easy for you, 1 that requires a little bit of concentration to get through, and 1 that kicks your behind a little bit. If you like, phone a friend and coordinate one or more of your selections. Work together. Collaborate. Teach one another. Encourage one another. Take the time you need for each example, respectively. Observe your own process, and have patience as you let the music sink in.
Rising Level 4's
The day has come....it's time to look at #15 in the 15 2-part Exercises!
You have enough analytical savvy at this point to figure out your own key areas, however, I'll give you these hints:
I spend a lot of time in E minor and G Major -- the end (as you probably figured) is a Picardy.
I go to B minor a bit and C Major a bit, and maybe to A minor for a teensy minute. You'll see the usual signs pointing to these changes...
Figure out the "head" right away and go hunting for it throughout the piece....it's quite tell-tale, I think.
Don't bite off more than you can chew. If you start to feel like the piece is endless, break it up into smaller sections.
Enjoy, and don't frustrate yourself. Marinate yourself.
Well, there's no denying it....the equinox has come and gone, and now it's autumn in earnest. The sky has that impossibly blue Colorado summer look here still, but the leaves are starting to turn, slowly but surely.
In my own everyday academic life, I'm up to my eyeballs in studying -- my big doctoral written exams are exactly a month from tomorrow, and while I always swore I'd remain calm when the time came for me to take part in this particular academic ritual, like so many before me, I am eating those words a bit. Gratefulness for the people who remind me of all the reasons why it'll all be ok continues to run high, but sleeping and maintaining focus has already becoming a challenge. However, as difficult as this process is, there's a part of me that enjoys playing Jane Goodall while the rest of me is a bit more like a troop of riled-up chimpanzees, and she's made the following observations:
1. Looking at information that is new or unfamiliar tends to cause the subject (me) to become anxious. However....
2. Repeated viewings improve both the subject's emotional response and her intellectual understanding and retention.
3. Going over information that was formerly familiar to the subject is typically quite successful immediately.
None of this should be a surprise, most likely, but I have to admit -- I'm a little startled at how true it is. Part of me naively insists that I should be able to force-feed myself as much information as I want (familiar or not), and everything should go into a nice little box inside my head and be readily accessible to me thenceforth just because I say so. And it ain't so. As it turns out, being in a hurry just makes it harder. Patience with others is a virtue I've spent a good amount of time cultivating (to varying degrees of success at any given moment), and as I get older, it bothers me less and less to have to repeat myself to my students or my choristers. However, I find myself unaccustomed to being patient with myself -- so it's time for a personal course correction. It's time to make a change. And I'm willing to bet I'm not the only Type A out there in need of this particular lesson. So:
Rising Level 2's
Check out Ottmans 11.33 and 12.39. By the end of the week, I bet you a dollar you can learn to do both of these as sing-and-plays. No, seriously. Breathe. You can totally do this:
First, sing through one voice part at a time. Do this until completely fluent -- give yourself a couple days. Once you're fluent, aim for memory.
When you're nearly memorized on one voice part in each exercise, try tapping the melody of the opposite part from the one you're singing. Go slow if that helps...it may help less than you think. If you find yourself getting metrically lost, you may find it helpful to "conduct" with a foot or sway back and forth...it's a favorite trick of mine, and pretty easy to do in 2/4.
Slowly, add piano. Figure out a hand position and fingering for the part you play that is consistently successful...take the time to be strategic rather than winging it.
Be sure to let me know if I owe you a dollar!
Rising Level 3's
Track down your Classical Canons book and look at #139-166 (all by Cherubini). Before you freak out, I'm not suggesting you read through all of them (unless you want to, of course!). Instead, choose 3: 1 that's easy for you, 1 that requires a little bit of concentration to get through, and 1 that kicks your behind a little bit. If you like, phone a friend and coordinate one or more of your selections. Work together. Collaborate. Teach one another. Encourage one another. Take the time you need for each example, respectively. Observe your own process, and have patience as you let the music sink in.
Rising Level 4's
The day has come....it's time to look at #15 in the 15 2-part Exercises!
You have enough analytical savvy at this point to figure out your own key areas, however, I'll give you these hints:
I spend a lot of time in E minor and G Major -- the end (as you probably figured) is a Picardy.
I go to B minor a bit and C Major a bit, and maybe to A minor for a teensy minute. You'll see the usual signs pointing to these changes...
Figure out the "head" right away and go hunting for it throughout the piece....it's quite tell-tale, I think.
Don't bite off more than you can chew. If you start to feel like the piece is endless, break it up into smaller sections.
Enjoy, and don't frustrate yourself. Marinate yourself.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Like cures like
Hello, my dear solfa singers!
It's a three-day-weekend! Hooray!!!
I have lately had occasion to have a bit of exposure to homeopathic medicine. You know, I've taken echinacea and goldenseal before, maybe even used a tincture or two, and my mom had this friend when I was growing up who grew her own kombucha (long before this video came out), so I'm not a total neophyte, but this time around (prompted by yet another round of extremely unpleasant abdominal pain...and can I just take this moment to say that when one's body wants attention, it frequently chooses not to fight fair), I encountered this principle:
Like cures like.
Ok, so in my case, I have these really nasty pains that come on without warning and feel like there are iron bands digging into the sides of my stomach while an army of angry chihuahuas also chew on it from the inside. I couldn't find anything specifically for the chihuahua problem, but thanks to a dear friend, I've been taking something that can actually cause a pain like iron bands if taken by a healthy person, but when taken (in extremely diluted and small quantities) by someone who already has those pains, it's supposed to cause the body to right itself. Essentially, it's the same principle as vaccines (or the hair of the dog) -- give yourself a little poison, your body rushes in to deal with the intruder, and in doing so, it fixes the problem you had to start with. And, while I retain a little healthy skepticism about the whole thing, it did work for me. Maybe it's placebo...but I feel better, so I'm ok with that.
And, just in case anyone is worried, I do promise to get myself fully checked out by a gastroenterologist soon.
So, naturally, I thought of this concept in terms of musicianship, and as it turns out, the principle appears to hold true. If you have trouble with rhythms, you have to give yourself rhythmic exercises to work on. If speedy solfa is your Achilles' heel, you have to sing more fast passages in order to improve. And so on. So, this week's battery of exercises will be organized a little differently with this principle in mind, and feel free to select from multiple categories as you feel the need.
Rhythm Intensive
Take a look at Ottman, chapter 15....and let's have some fun with syncopations!
Speak through while conducting: 15.3, 15,5, 15.6, 15.10, 15.11, 15.16, 15.19, 15.20 (plus more, if desired)
On p. 257, look at the text on the bottom of the page, and select 2 melodies from each category to prepare and sing. If you are a rising level 2 and the chromaticism has you worried, you may choose from only the first two categories.
Melodic Leap Intensive
If you get stymied by leaps, either because applying the solfa quickly is hard or because you're afraid you won't sing the correct interval, this section is for you!
First, there are several interval exercises you can do to help yourself -- I like this one because it's all pentatonic, but actually pretty challenging:
Sing (the solfa, and then the interval name on the same notes -- I'd start in A or B-flat):
d r major second; r m major second; s l major second;
m s minor third; l d' minor third;
d m major third;
r s perfect fourth; m l perfect fourth; s d' perfect fourth; l r' perfect fourth;
d s perfect fifth; r l perfect fifth; s r' perfect fifth; l m' perfect fifth;
m d' minor sixth;
d l major sixth; s m' major sixth;
r d' minor seventh; m r' minor seventh; l s' minor seventh
Sing that exercise until you can do so fluently -- if you have trouble decoding it from the text above, call me, and I'll sing it for you.
Additionally, sing through these Ottmans:
9.3, 9.6, 9.8 (note that it goes on to the following page), 9.26, 9.37, 11.25, 11.26
Quick-draw Solfa Intensive
If you feel like spitting the syllables out accurately in scalar passages is your particular cross to bear, look no further.
First, practice pentachords in sequence:
drmfsfmrd rmfslsfmr mfsltlsfm fsltd'tlsf sltd'r'd'tls ltd'r'm'r'd'tl td'r'm'f'm'r'd't d'
Start out at a moderate tempo, and gradually increase your speed. For added challenge, leave out the last note in each grouping and go immediately on to the next grouping.
And, sing through these Ottman examples:
12.4, 12.7, 12.24, 12.27, 12.52, 12.58 (pretend you're in F major in treble clef)
Enjoy!
Labels:
drills/exercises,
mundane epiphanies,
Ottman,
wellness,
working smarter
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Knowing what to ignore
My dear solfa friends,
Greetings! I hope the ravages of Irene have run their course for all you east-coasters, and that life is quickly getting back to normal.
My last first week of school as a student is now behind me, and predictably (as all students know), it came with a few bumps in the road. In fact, there's kind of one central bump I've been wrestling with quite a bit lately. That bump is a combination of two related issues:
Getting tied up in negativity -- about myself, others, political situations, you name it
and
Not knowing where to put my focus.
These are fairly standard human problems, I think, and maybe they're even more standard for artist types -- because we tend to be sensitive souls, and many of us are basically hardwired for perfectionism because we notice a lot of subtlety and feel responsible for it. I think folks who grew up with parents, guardians, or teachers who tended towards the strict side also relate strongly to these issues because we're used to operating from a diagnostic perspective -- the main reason we heard from close authority figures was because something was wrong, and basically, there was (and is) always something that could be better, so we're conditioned to constantly seek out and weed out problems. The probable result of either (or both...heaven help us) of these situations? Harsh, constant self-criticism that gets translated into the ways we relate to other people and situations. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted just from writing all of that.
So, what does one do? Especially when the criticism inside gets echoed by criticism outside, and then it seems like the entire world is against you. What do you do?
Well, first off (and this is so difficult to do, and even more difficult to gauge when you're actually doing it), make a friend. That friend is yourself. I'm not saying that self-criticism is a bad thing, nor am I saying that we all ought to walk around in the world feeling like we're always right (because if you did, the entire world would turn into Boulder, CO....jes' sayin'). I'm saying that, when the chips are down, things are looking ugly, and the oxygen masks start falling from the panel above your seat, you have to care enough about yourself to put on your own darn mask. Have your own back. In the heat of the moment, practice non-reaction as much as possible, and then go away and think about it. That's the great thing about being a musician rather than a brain surgeon -- if you choose not to make an immediate decision about something, or if you change your mind later, probably no one is going to die. Probably. If, upon reflection, you want to change the way you handle a similar situation in the future, that's a choice for YOU to make for YOU on YOUR time.
Second, read this. Seriously, read it. It's pretty genius.
Finally, use non-emotionally charged activities to train yourself to ignore things that aren't helpful. That might sound either abstract or kind of silly, but I have a feeling it works. Why? Well, because I have the easiest time following all of my own advice (see above) when I am in the head-space I use for sight-singing or analysis. You know the head-space I mean...non-emotional, task-oriented, strategic -- still human, still musical, but not so busy with myself that I can't be present with the task (or the person or the conflict or the difficult conversation) at hand. Try this:
Rising Level 2's
Take a look at this:
This little piece has a lot of visually forbidding things about it that might get you all hot and bothered....however, don't worry. Ask yourself:
What is familiar and easy about this piece (it's in C major, it's in 4, there are only 2 parts, the melody is very singable, etc.)?
What is the best way to isolate small parts of the piece and deal with a little bit at a time (i.e., isolate the rhythm, look at only one section at a time, etc.)?
Notate on your own score the parts of the piece you personally find easy. That way, when you're reading through, you'll recognize when you're in friendly territory.
Each day, choose one or two difficulties within the piece and come up with a creative solution that makes the difficulty seem easy. If you get frustrated, walk away for a few minutes or look at a different section, and come back to the tricky bit. Change tactics. Don't beat your head against a wall. Play to your strengths.
Rising Level 3's
Look at this piece:
Before you do anything else with it, listen to it here:
Cool, isn't it?
Take another listen with the score (use the first link, even though they're singing it in a higher key in the recording -- the score is just a little nicer to look at than the one in the video), and make a little textural map for yourself -- where is the homophonic material? How much imitative material is there really? Is texture tied to text in some important ways?
If you try to visually determine from the score which solfa to use at any given moment, you may wind up a bit frustrated, because there are some funny twists and turns in the piece, and the key signature is sometimes profoundly unhelpful. Instead, I'd recommend that you give yourself one more listen to the recording with score in hand and circle the spots where you hear definite cadences. Then, work backwards from those points to determine your solfa choices.
Try to sing through each part and mark which keys/modes are in play. For fun, you may even want to do a solfa chord analysis of the homophonic sections -- you'll have to make some key decisions in order to do that, but who knows? Your harmonic analysis may actually wind up informing your key area/mode decisions, and thereby your musical decisions. That's right folks, I'm suggesting that musicality can and should be informed by analysis and vice versa. It's a two-way street, and it doesn't even have to be unpleasant. You can even change your mind. Who knew?
Rising Level 4's
Look at this piece....Rheinberger, if you've not heard of him, was a contemporary of Brahms.
Now, I'm not going to give you a recording like I did for the 3's....if you find one, please feel free to use it like I had them use it, if you wish. However, there's no need for panic with this piece either, even without the aid of a recording.
Scan your way through the piece. Take note of the places where accidentals appear, especially where they are repeated. If you had to guess, what key(s) do you visit? Do the cadences reflect your suspicions? In general, how does the bass line (and therefore, the harmony) move?
Using your own musical discretion, divide the piece into manageable sections. Sing through each part -- if you can, sing one part and play another. Once you've sung through all the parts and made some solfa decisions you feel comfortable with, do a Roman numeral analysis. Do the numbers behave like they're supposed to? Do you think you might want to reconsider some of your key area choices in light of the information the analysis gave you?
So yes, I think solfa and analysis can actually serve as a backdrop to positive behavioral changes that can have a lot of impact on the way you feel about your life as both a musician and as a person. The fringe benefits of a musical life aren't just for our students -- they're for us. The music can be our refuge, too.
Enjoy!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
I get by...
Greetings, solfa friends!
So, astrologically speaking, we are about to cross from the creative, fun-loving sign of Leo into analytical, hard-working Virgo (disclaimer: I am not saying that Virgos are no fun, nor am I inferring that Leos are lazy good-for-nothings...hopefully you're all aware that when I start talking astrology, my tongue is usually firmly in my cheek). School is also starting up for many of us....coincidence? Perhaps not... And, I'm in denial. Big time. And when I say denial, I mean the sad kind that isn't quite convincing enough to prolong the glorious dream that is summertime. Tomorrow morning, I know I am going to need to haul myself out of bed, make myself presentable, and go be somebody...when I would so much rather have just one more teensy week of watching The View while wearing waffle-weave pajamas and sipping tea on my couch.
The only thing preventing my descent into full-on whinery is also the carrot I dangle in front of my eyes to keep me moving: my wonderful circle of friends up on campus. Now, I know that the work I'm doing is also wonderful, and I'm lucky to be doing it, but the idea of work seems pretty lame when juxtaposed with the waffle-weave-clad-couch-ensconced wonderfulness described above, no matter how great the work is. And ain't it just how that is sometimes? Sometimes you need inspiration and motivation with skin....in the form of people who will hug you and prod you and tell you over cocktails that you need to get your behind in gear, that it's dumb to think you can't do it, and who promise to help you persevere because they can see that you need their help.
So, while last week's post was a plug for discipline, this week is all about having the wherewithal to reach out for help when you need it, and encouraging you to involve others in your endeavor to grow as a musician. We all need it. We all need to reach out and let others help us sometimes, because without this, we will not only lose steam, we'll lose perspective. It's part of having ZK's big four: a well-trained ear, a well-trained heart, a well-trained hand, and a well-trained intelligence. It's part of having a balanced musical and human life -- and I don't know about you, but it's become really clear to me lately that I don't want to get to the end of all this and have to say that I majored in music and minored in life. We are humans first, and humans need other humans to be healthy....and we can't exactly be the kinds of artists and craftspeople we want to be if we aren't healthy to start with. So:
All Levels:
Find a buddy for this week's assignments. If you can track down someone with whom you can get some actual in-person time, that's ideal. But phone, Skype, FaceTime....all of these will work in a pinch! Your buddy doesn't have to be in the same level as you -- heck, s/he doesn't even have to be in the program!
Rising Level 2's
Confer with your buddy and choose parts for these duets:
Go nuts with the dynamics and the overall shaping of these little pieces. Have a scholarly discussion about the harmonic language. If you get ambitious, take a stab at the German.
Rising Level 3's
Bust out your Classical Canons book at take a look at:
2b (Note that this is a diminution canon at the fifth -- for practice purposes, you can both practice 2a on your own, and the person who eventually takes the high part can transpose it up a fifth),
14 (Confer with your buddy to choose D = re or D = la)
30 (Conduct in 4! Don't let those half notes push you around!)
44 (Conduct in 4! Don't let that weird opening measure trick you into choosing a tempo that is too quick -- in fact, read through the rhythm of the whole piece one time without the first three notes and confer with your buddy before you make a firm decision about tempo)
104 (Another one to conduct...and to confer over)
Rising Level 4's
Ok, so this is a big bite, but I think you all can handle it...
Dig up your 15 2-part Exercises and take a look at nos. 12 (which we analyzed and learned together), 13, and 14.
Using your analysis of #12 as a guide and in conference with your buddy, take a stab an analyzing and singing both #13 and #14. Here are some hints:
In both:
Solfa changes don't necessarily need to be simultaneous, but consult with your buddy because you may find that both parts being in the same key sometimes provides moral support...and by moral support, I mean a friendly tonal/harmonic underpinning that will help your buddy find his/her notes help both of you have good intonation.
In #13
The theme is the first four bars plus one quarter note. It eventually occurs in: i, v, III, and VI. There is a suspicious-looking C-minory thing in the second-to-last system, lower voice, but I think you should just stay in B-flat until the second measure of the last system when the E-naturals return.
B-natural is not ALWAYS an indicator that you should change solfa.
Some of the solfa changes in this one are quite brief.
In #14
The first four bars are the theme, and the repeated note is exactly what the key signature leads you to believe it is. When the upper voice enters, you will want to call the repeated note something else because of the B-natural looming on the horizon....also because it's not a "real answer".
You will make it as far from the home key as E-flat Major/C minor in the flat direction (but only in the lower voice) and as far as A minor in the sharp direction.
Good luck!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Our daily bread
Hello much-missed students!
....yes, it's true....I miss you all!
So, I have spent this past week house/dog-sitting and re-acclimating to life at high altitude after my long sojourn on east and west coasts, respectively. School starts up for me a week from tomorrow, and like many of you (I'm sure), I've started to get anxious about it. This is supposed to be a big year -- the year of comprehensive exams, dissertation projects, final orals and GRADUATION....and the thought of all the work standing between me and that goal (see word in all caps) is staggering, and it makes me want to freak out.
There, I said it.
Many of you had a similar reaction to reading Kodály's "Who is a Good Musician?", and I think I can safely say that this feeling of freak-out is a common human phenomenon. It happens to everyone, and I think most of us tend to think our freak-outs are some sort of secret flaw that no one else has, and that's not true.
We also tend to think that only special people will live to achieve monumental things in their lifetime, and that you have to have been born with some kind of one-in-a-million genius in order to do so. Part of that is too much TV or something...
No, seriously...
At pretty much every major milestone in my life, I've had this irresistible urge to wander the streets looking for a phone booth that contained my unitard, cape, and superpowers, all of which I clearly needed in order to check off the next item on my list....and you'll probably be as disappointed as I was to discover that there is NO phone booth.
Anyhow, I think another part of it is a refusal to acknowledge our own empowerment, our own human ability to transform ourselves through transforming our behavior. We'd rather not believe that work is just work. I'm not saying that there aren't things in life we can't do, and probably we have a much better shot at prowess in some things than others, just from our genetic predispositions.
But, the truth is this: for the most part, it's just work. The daily grind is the path to greatness. There may be some kind of miraculous transformation or unprecedented revelation waiting for you in the wings, but do you know how it'll reveal itself? Day by day, in the business of doing what needs to be done, probably with very little fanfare, and probably when no one else is watching and when you yourself have perhaps forgotten why you've bothered -- that is when the magic happens. It doesn't live in some big genius/talent storehouse. It comes to you like your daily bread, and you have to trust that each day will bring its proper allotment as you do your daily work in order to earn it. Some days you'll feel like you're going hungry. Some days you'll feel too tired or depressed to put in the time. But, if you're patient and diligent and gentle with yourself along the way, you'll discover that you can transform yourself, and that no one can take it away. That's why I'm so serious about this weekly blog business...it's an investment that cannot fail. There's no way not to make good on the time you've spent and the effort you've used.
So, this week:
Rising Level 2's
In your Ottman, sing through:
11.24, 11.25, 11.26, 11.27, & 11.28
Identify any tricky spots after your initial reading of each melody, isolate those spots and creatively problem-solve your way through them. Hint: look for arpeggiated harmonies, melodic and rhythmic patterns, and places to strategically use your audiation chops.
Once you've sung through all five, do a little phrase/form analysis of each melody. How are the melodies similar to one another? Does the national origin of each melody seem to be reflected in unique phrase structure? Are melodies from areas geographically close to one another more similar?
Finally, choose one or two of these melodies and harmonize them. Sing and play, by yourself or with a friend.
Rising Level 3's
Take a look at these Ottman examples:
13.19, 13.22, 13.25
From an initial scan, determine if you'd like to change solfa at any point -- my advice would be to change if you sense a cadence in the new key, or if you do multiple arpeggiations of a chromatic chord in the original key (i.e. something that looks like a major II, aka V/V). Did your solfa choices work for you? If not, is the solution more practice, or is it to change your approach?
Additionally, look at examples 13.20, 13.23, and 13.24.
Sing through each, and then harmonize portions of the melodies as indicated in the textbook. Do you agree with Ottman/Rogers' harmonic choices? Did you come up with an alternative you like better? What's the easiest way to figure out what a V/V in the key of D is (hint: see parenthetical statement above or look at your secondary dominant planet handout to spell in solfa, then translate into letters)? How would you harmonize the final cadence of 13.24?
Feel free to share your findings!
Rising Level 4's
DISCLAIMER: I avoid this chapter of Ottman during the summers, mostly because the question of modulation in such short passages often causes tremendous confusion or bitter arguments, while studying modulation in longer chunks or imitative contexts is usually easier and less emotionally draining. If you experience distress from the following exercise, please submit a complaint to the management.
Look at the following Ottman examples:
14.5, 14.6, 14.17, 14.19 (note that the fi in the last line isn't a modulatory fi), 14.24, and 14.30
In each case, determine where each modulation occurs in each piece, noting that you should only need to move in either the dominant direction by one fifth or the subdominant direction by one fifth (meaning that you're looking for fi and ta). Note also that some of these excerpts modulate away and some end in the new key. Devise a solfa change plan for each example before singing through it. After the initial reading, decide whether you think your initial assessment was correct or if you should strategically alter it. Try to reach a point of fluency with each example.
Enjoy, my dears, and remember...in order to gain mastery, all you have to do is put in the time to make solfa your daily bread.
Monday, August 8, 2011
A new year carol
Hello, my long-lost solfeggists!
So, we are now one week into the 49-week cycle. You will have noticed, perhaps, that I missed week 1 -- sort of intentional on my part, but mostly due to my quick jaunt to Portland, OR for the wedding of the first of my siblings, my older brother. A good time was had by all, I think....in fact, dancing with my younger brother was sort of a cultural education in itself, but I digress...
On the last day of classes, my dear Loyola students were kind enough to collaborate with me in gathering some "solfa aphorisms" -- it brought me back to my days in girls' chorus when we (being the littlest bit dorky) carried around what we called "autograph books" (a la Laura Ingalls Wilder) to collect little sayings from our friends. Don't judge....we were homeschoolers, so we didn't have yearbooks. Anyway, here are some of the sayings that we came up with just a bit over a week ago, many of which transcend solfa and the musical realm:
"Let us take our children seriously! Everything else follows from this...only the best is good enough for a child." (ZK, paraphrased)
Live a little. Music doesn't belong in a china closet.
Modes are messy.
Solfa class is just like therapy....a place to share your troubles. When you talk about your problems, they become easier to solve.
You cannot be a great teacher without giving a little of your heart to every student and in every lesson you teach.
Chromaticism is just a splash of color.
Sometimes anger is just a part of caring.
Solfa is like a workout for your brain.
Listen. It's better than making noise.
We teach people. We teach music. Remember to love both.
Teach your students as if you were teaching your own children.
You choose what you take with you.
You never know for sure what seeds you plant will wind up taking root and flourishing.
Being a good teacher to yourself is a necessary step to becoming a good teacher of others.
The British Invasion would've really taken off if they had used solfa syllables.
Your teacher knows better than you at this moment.
Drinks are better than drama.
Sometimes sitting with failure is more valuable than a thousand successes.
C, D, E.....as easy as ut-re-mi!
You have both your strengths and your weaknesses for a reason. Embrace them. Know them.
Obviously, some of these are more serious than others, some are mostly inside jokes, and some are firmly in my favorite touchy-feely realm. However, I have to say that I think it's valuable to reflect on our recent experiences in the solfa classroom in ways that are both comical and serious, both concrete and hopelessly abstract, and both practical and merely ideal. After all, solfa is a musicianship course, and we all know that our personal experiences and reflections and senses of humor are inextricable from our artistic behavior.
As we ease into this new year, and in the spirit of all of the above, I invite you:
All Levels:
Take a moment sometime this week to write down what you enjoyed about this year's solfa experience, and record the ways in which you know you've grown. Brag. Revel....just a little.
Then, take another moment and write down the things you wish we would have spent more time with in class, the gaps in your own experience that you'd like to have spackled up, and the goals you have for yourself before embarking upon the next phase of your musical training.
If you feel comfortable, please share either or both of the above lists with me. I cannot overstate how important it is to me that each of you feels that this course is supposed to be for YOU, to help YOU grow and succeed. Believe me when I say: if it lies within my power to help you, I want to do that. Also, knowing what you want to work on during the year will really help me guide my posts here on the blog -- at the moment, I sort of follow my nose and try to give you all a nice variety, but if there's something you'd like me to focus on, I'd be glad to do that.
And, just so I don't feel totally soft-core about this week's post:
All Levels:
Each day, select 2 Ottman examples to sight-sing (one in major, one in minor), using the principles we discussed this summer....most importantly, DON'T STOP! If you're wondering what chapter(s) to use, try:
Rising 2's - ch. 6, 8, or 9
Rising 3's - ch. 11, 12, or (if you're feeling frisky) 13
Rising 4's - ch. 13, 7 (if you'd like to practice alto clef), or 20
Enjoy, my friends, and please do consider sending me some feedback -- just like at Burger King, I'd like you to have it YOUR way.
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