Still working the German Advent hymn (see, "Supplied by my private NHS") Normally a four-part song, we sing it as a duet. I take the main line, normally sung by the soprano, while V sings accompaniment. It's within my range but I sound weedy and unconfident. Yet I adore the song.
V: Sing just the first line:
R: Es ist en Ros entsprungen
V: The final note (-en) is a tiny bit flat. Sing it slightly higher.
R: (Ditto)
V: Still flattish
R: (Ditto). V: (Ditto).
Bad news. My sense of pitch is reasonable but not good enough to detect this sort of fault when I practice alone at home. I become mildly depressed. Only spitting distance from wholeheartedly depressed.
V: (a) You're singing -en as -ern, add a bit of an a to the e. (b) Your mouth isn't wide enough.
(a) Looks hard but is actually easy. (b) Non-intuitive, thus a seeming lack of control. A wider mouth will lead to an entirely different sound, even a different note.
It does. The tiny flat has disappeared. "Perfect," says V, but as a throwaway.
The same instructions are applied to the initial word (Es) of the first line. And lo, the song is demonstrably within my range and I’m properly at ease. Best of all I’m looking for more songs pitched higher.
The Christmas tree is still up because the old cat likes it!
ReplyDeleteI find these back-and-forth accounts of you and V to be weirdly fascinating, rather like a Renaissance poem between a nymph and a shepherd. Only different.
ReplyDeleteMike: Check with your well-thumbed edition of The Pagan Calendar, see what's due up had it not been for events in the Eastern Mediterranean which superseded them. Received wisdom says Easter, but you'll probably find it was preceded by The Spring Green Willow-Laths Tying Festival. Cats are self-evidently not Christian and that may appeal. But first remove any traces of Rudolph. Cats aren't all that bright but they routinely outscore reindeer.
ReplyDeleteBefore going to bed whisper in the cat's ear: "Willow. Willow. You know it makes sense."
Marly: I'm glad you appended the two-word qualifier. There's a line that I particularly dislike:
In this grove, in this grove
We'll sport and play,
For this is Flora's holiday
Here in the UK Flora is one of those fake speadable butters. Add that to "sport" and you have a truly squalid occasion.
O! I really, really (2 reallys) love this song.
ReplyDelete