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Thursday 27 September 2018

You do this for fun?

Singing is getting harder as V concentrates on how songs should be sung (ie, interpretation). Last Monday I had a significant failure when V, looking totally knackered, wondered if our attempts were a step too far.

Re. Quilter's setting of Shakespeare's O Mistress Mine. With "Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty..." the note supporting "kiss" is highish and the requirement was to sing it without strain. On my own I'd never quite managed this and the solution was fiendish. As I failed, I talked compulsively. I emailed V apologising for behaving like a half-wit. Her reply contained comfort and a further solution. We shall see.

Last night BBC2's Trust Me, I'm a Doctor had a scoop. Certain activities may "boost feel-good chemicals in the brain," with possible implications for dementia. Volunteers tested stationary bicycle work, dancing, and singing against a control activity (reading a washing machine manual) and blood samples were taken. Manual-reading resulted in virtually no change, bicycles and dancing showed encouraging increases in the higher teens but singing was way up with a 40% increase.

Singing had been chosen because singers admit to "euphoria". I can confirm that. Even more surprising, my euphoric outbursts have recurred over the past 33 months. It seemed ironic that these two events should arrive in the same week but V's reply allayed any fears. Not that I’d ever thought of jacking in singing.

Singing, as with all music creation, gets harder the more you do. It has to because you start matching yourself against the pros, many of whom did doh – re- mi in the cradle. I’m never going to get there. Age is one factor. More important I’m not intuitively musical and must compensate with enthusiasm and doggedness.

Here’s a slogan: Musical euphoria - cheaper than cocaine!

4 comments:

  1. I watched the doctor and was not surprised having watched most of Gareth Malone's programmes establishing new choirs, and the beneficial effects for people with emotional problems. I was heartened at the way Trust Me also comprehensively de-bunked the business of detoxing.

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  2. Wow. Euphoria ... now there's a concept I must ponder. The new doctor is making her appearance on my birthday ... I am understandably excited. Wait a moment, were we talking about singing? I have recently discovered Sia, the Australian singer ... ♪ ♫ ♪ ♪

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  3. Sir Hugh: Gareth himself looks as if he's on a permanent high; it seems as if it can be infectious. In the same edition of Trust Me there was another brief section showing that group singing during and after pregnancy can keep ante- and post-natal blues away for mothers. The great thing for me is that I don't need a group, singing is entirely portable and I can sing in cars, in the bath etc. A remarkable crutch for old age.

    RW (zS): Euphoria isn't pondered, it sweeps you away like a high tide. It does occasionally happen when listening to others sing, but is at its most powerful when you do the singing. It's most likely when you sing an interval involving a minor key and get it right. There a reason for this. Most people can sing simple tunes - hymns for instance - but minor-key stuff is less intuitive and harder to do. Do you know the English folk-song Greensleeves (the tune also accompanies the Christmas song: What Child Is This?). That's minor key (actually it's a mode but we won't go into that) and if you manage to hum it properly you might flirt with euphoria.

    I have to confess I've never seen a single episode of Doctor Who. It started out (in b&w TV days) as something for kids and I wasn't a kid even then. The allusion to the programme in the graphic I used was mainly for US readers who would probably be unaware of the lesser-known Trust Me, I'm a Doctor.

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  4. Ah yes, I know Loreena McKennitt's version of Greensleeves and Mahalia Jackson's version of What Child Is This ... I shall attempt humming 'neath the harvest moon ...

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