During weeks of endless pain (Thank-you sciatic nerve, you absolute bastard) I have my best singing lesson ever.I endure the unsleep of the damned, walk like Neanderthal man, must sit (!) at a lowered music stand, yet am exalted. Limited to my voice, the score, V at the piano (newly tuned) singing her head off, remembering recorded performances, I sing and recognise faintly I've moved on, perhaps up.
Yet anyone listening would have heard only the mistakes.
The song is Evening Hymn, written 350 years ago by Henry Purcell. It sounds like THIS.
So lingering, so moving, so deceptively simple - at least until the Hallelujahs. But it’s a maze of sharps and flats, of minims followed by dotted minims (for this journey you need lots of breath) and subtleties from no more than three notes. "It's a singer's song," says V. Yeah.
Previously I'd never got past the first page of four though I've listened to it innumerably on YouTube, following the score.
I'd missed my previous lesson, grieving for Nick. The pain was varying, ingenious and malevolent. V said we'd do the whole thing so I could grasp at the shape. I missed entrances, sang flat, chopped off sustained notes, got briefly lost. But...
... there were notes I remembered exactly and reproduced, sequences I could predict and sing full-throatedly. I was alert and sentient in a recognisable structure, swelling on words that needed swelling. Next time I’d halve the boo-boos.
Finished, I decided: no next time. Not that day anyway. Next week. I said, “Let’s sing something I know well.” V nodded. We did Waly, Waly.
But Evening Hymn remains, imperfectly dealt with but a musical achievement nevertheless, my gain. I might after all become a singer.
I listened. It was much more complicated than you had me believe from your description. The singing was wonderful, and in no way do I want to dismiss it, but the tone of that piano, especially the intro, was magical. I don't know if the sound particularly suited the speakers on my computer which are only moderately priced, can't remember, but perhaps £30 worth, but I was bowled over. The recording must have been well done.
ReplyDeleteYour gratification at your performance shines through; I equate it to the feeling I have when I step out of the car in the middle of nowhere and in silence to embark on climbing a worthy hill - each to his own.
I have bought an electric blanket which I keep switched on all night - a great comfort - may be the same could do some good for you?
Sir Hugh: I'm glad you enjoyed the song. This is one of the advantages of having a long-standing teacher who knows my abilities, disabilities and preferences. On the first run-through, several weeks ago, the rapport was immediate. I had to have Evening Hymn however long it took. I told V she would have to be patient but then she always has been. Perhaps not as patient as I thought; this morning I found myself singing half of it from memory which surprised me.
ReplyDeleteAs to complexity and/or simplicity these terms don't always fit music as they do prose. There's a tendency - and I'm guilty of it myself - to regard fast, tongue-twisting Rossini-ish vocal music as complex, while the main requirement is better identified as agility; interpretation (which is much more problematic) doesn't enter the frame. Complexity is often more evident in comparatively slow music
Cherubino's aria Voi Che Sapete, in Figaro, sounds no more than just brisk, rhythmically steady and rather straightforward (though immediately beautiful) at first hearing. It is also quite short. But into this tight package the highly paid soprano must inject youthfulness, impulsiveness and a sense of fun that goes with Cherubino's character. These requirements can be considered complex - very complex in fact - and the soprano must get it right, since C has only three arias in the whole opera, being third in line to Susanna and the Countess. See what you think of Frederica von Stade's take on it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7y3_SZqNi4
Evening Hymn is full of musical subtlety but this is a "written-in" quality and the notes for it are there to be learned. Good examples are to be found in the way the phrase "O my soul" is set - twice, quite differently. Both offering wonderful interpretive moments. The astonishing thing is that music's quality never ages, the nature of invention is unique.
Well, while you were complaining on my blog about my not posting, I posted. Just so you know, you must have some kind of electrical ability to project guilt across salt water.
ReplyDeleteThis probably sounds stupid, but I've gotten a lot of relief from back problems by doing exercises I found on youtube... There are a bunch for sciatica, I noticed. Sciatica exercise videos hang out with back exercise videos.
"Evening Hymn" seems the right practice for someone mourning the death of a brother. And it's strange how the journey up toward some high goal is so satisfying, even when we know that we're a long way off. And singing (from my choir time) seems a thing where the goal is always glimmering out of reach--always something more to work on.
Well, good on you, Robbie. I've listened to the Evening Hymn twice -- your version, and one with Emma Kirkby, to get a better sense of what it would feel like in my range. This sort of piece is a far greater challenge, I think, than fast stuff. Every wobble shows, every inaccuracy or inconsistency, and the lines require a great deal of breath and also finesse. I'm so proud of you for your tenacity in this endeavor, and believe me, I know how good it feels when you've made teal progress and done some justice to a great work like this one. Bravo.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, do the sciatica exercises! I had a bout of it and that helped greatly.
ReplyDeleteMarly: Drugs aren't reaching the pain and exercise - even as mild as walking back from the supermarket - reduces me to Charles Laughton in his most famous role. I have had my first session with an osteopath and envisage many more.
ReplyDeleteEvening Hymn is easily the highest I've ever aimed but then Mozart's An Chloë seemed impossible when I started out on it a year ago. The greatest asset is loving the piece from the outset. The one outright failure I've had (other than for purely technical reasons) concerned an operetta duet I never really cared for.
I'll remember that phrase of yours "glimmering out of reach".
Beth: "Every wobble shows" How true! And there is no substitute for counting out the beat (always my weakest point)during stretched-out "sun", "soft" and "dear". I suppose I oughtn't to be surprised it's so great; it comes from the same stable as Dido's Lament.
At the moment the sciatica exercises are beyond me. Tried one yesterday (lying on floor with my calves supported on a kitchen chair). Recommended by the osteopath but wholly excriciating.
I empathise with your sciatic pain RR, since my last stroke has left me with neuropathy in my legs.No standard analgesics are effective, but after a medical recommendation (Dr. James LeFanu) I am getting relief by using Cannabidiol (a legal extract of the cannabis plant). Google for details.
ReplyDeleteIt can be obtained in various strengths, the stronger the more effective (and more expensive). Holland and Barratt do cheap low strength varieties of capsule and sprays, but I use a 4% solution, sprayed under the tongue and held there for a couple of minutes 3 times a day after meals, which is very effective. I get 400 mg dispensers from CBD Life (https://cbdlifeuk.com/) at £25 per bottle. It is money I consider very well spent!
Incidently my own osteopath uses it too.
Singing vs sciatica. It's a novel approach, I grant you that. Let's hope you can sing it away.
ReplyDeleteThere are no painkillers for/against sciatica bar numbing the nerve completely which means your leg will be paralyzed for a few hours. It is blissful but you cannot walk for the duration. Take your pick.
I have done my research and unfortunately the consensus is "keep moving", regardless of pain. Muscle strains heal faster when not resting. Nerves need muscles and vice versa to recover from stress.
Obviously, exclude any other event that could cause this level of pain. Also, an experienced physiotherapist, better still an osteopath (more training and background) could provide excellent advice.
All the best for a speedy recovery.
Avus: Thanks for this "ultimate deterrent" suggestion. I will bear it in my mind. However I have had such an attack before, about ten years ago, even more incapacitating, and it was eventually cleared up. For the moment I have to work on the principle that this one too will be cleared up. So far I have only managed one visit to the osteopath (She's very busy); this was exploratory and she is optimistic. I have another visit tomorrow. Meanwhile, following my GP's advice I have jacked up my dosage of gamapentin and this may be having some effect, it's difficult to tell. Though I did get a good night's sleep last night.
ReplyDeleteSabine: I didn't sing in the hope that it might minimise the sciatica, rather that without singing (especially at this period of progress) life would become a desert.
Both Marly and Beth have recommended exercise. As did the osteopath - hers being a project whereby one lies on the floor, arms outstretched, resting one's calves on the seat of a kitchen chair and contemplating the ceiling for 40 minutes. I was quite prepared to do this but my hip area found the hardness of the floor uncongenial and the instructional video insisted that one had to be comfortable from the outset. I will discuss this with the osteopath tomorrow.
I take your point about exercise in general but this is another thing I will have to discuss. A couple of days I walked back from the supermarket, a mere 10 minutes. By the time I reached the final few metres I'd become as bent as a croquet hoop and was incoherent with pain. I doubt that such self-harm - at this stage anyway - can be beneficial.
I can, however, write and that's something. And can say thanks for your help, it is appreciated.
This is so gruesome to read as I have been there before and more.
ReplyDeleteDid anybody rule out other causes? Even a slipped disc will shrink back in place over time but a sequestered one will not.
When you lie down for the exercise as prescribed, maybe use a yoga mat or two or three to soften the impact of the floor.
I find heat just wonderful, in any shape and form: hot water bottles in all sizes, hot showers/rinses - as I imagine a bath is a difficult scenario to get in right now -, mud packs (we buy these here in pharmacies and heat them in the microwave), even just a couple of hot towels and especially ointments. I swear by a vile stinking cream that sets your muscles on mild and relaxing fire: https://www.kneipp.com/de_de/produkte/arnika-waermebalsam-100ml-d
It's available in most German supermarkets of which you have the worst brands (lidl, aldi) in your country.
The idea is to relax your muscles at all cost and in whatever way you can as they must be tensed up to breaking point by now from awkward reliving postures and trying to not move at all.
As for the nerve, I tried triple doses of all B vitamins, but hot whiskey certainly works faster.
That's a shit of a nerve, seriously!
Sabine: I will look into all those things I promise. Have you tried the contrast heat/cold thing? Three minutes application of a heat source (We have a small bean bag that can be heated in the microwave) then three minutes of cold (traditionally a pack of frozen peas). Good for a shortish period.
ReplyDeleteBut hist! You have provided blessed surcease from another direction. I downloaded the score of Frankenlied (Free!) which came with the lyrics; I noted that den weiten Gottesgarten had become den weiten Lebensgarten, listened twice to the song rendered on YouTube (remarkably presto, don't you think?), looked at the score and then sang it a capella with only minor discrepancies. All within 15 minutes.
Why such excitement? Technically I can't read music, I've simply picked up bits and pieces of notation as and when they became necessary. At present my bum is pain-free even if I am admittedly sitting down.
Can you hear my rousing baritone:
Wohlauf, die Luft geht frisch und rein,
wer lange sitz muss rosten...
Ironic that second line. But how about euphoria as a temporary palliative? Always include Frankenlied in any further sciatical recommendations. And yes, it is a shit of a nerve.
Deustchezauber!