VR's background was similar. We were poor but managed a few LPs. Almost accidentally we heard the mezzo, Janet Baker (later Dame Janet Baker), and started collecting her even though I still favoured pianos and violins over voices. Eventually we had about 700 discs.
Three years ago, as I've exhaustively recorded, I had this urge to sing properly. How so? asked V, my teacher, at the first lesson. My answer was vague, unsatisfactory. But here’s a resonance.
Last night BBC TV devoted an hour-and-a-half to notoriously camera-shy Janet Baker, now retired. As testament to her greatness acquaintances were required to remain mute and just listen to one of her recordings. Spoken judgments were brief as if words were distrusted. Faces and tears said everything about that wonderful voice and supreme musical intelligence.
There's a 1966 black-and-white film of her, ridiculously costumed, singing what may be a definitive Dido's Lament:
When I am laid, am laid in earth...
I probably agree. But who am I?
Just one thing. As Dido, she sings the line "Remember me" several times. The last time, high up and powerful, majestic yet poignant, she faces those es in "remember". The vowel e is dull and unrewarding for singers. Dame Janet accommodates her es, all different. With great skill.
Meanwhile I’ve struggled over “Fresh joys we’ll pursue” in the Purcell duet I’ve mentioned. That e in “fresh” is a bugger, highish, demanding a change in intonation. A most tenuous link between us yet I choked as I watched telly. Music – stronger than glue.
Listened for about 15 seconds before deciding it was too sorrowful to bear.
ReplyDeleteAbout 10 minutes effort to "verify" and "prove I'm not a robot"....you should feel quite safe.
ReplyDeleteMikeM: My equivalent to:
ReplyDeleteI went down to St James Infirmary.
My wife is a Janet Baker fan and we both watched (and recorded to keep on DVD) the "Janet Baker in her Own Words" - wonderful
ReplyDeleteAvus: My congratulations to Mrs Avus on her good taste. I enjoyed the ninety-minute programme and was pleased to see Dame Janet could be quite waspish towards those who didn't meet her very high standards.
ReplyDeleteI have further reason to be grateful to JB. As I've mentioned more than once I am presently learning the Purcell duet for baritone and soprano, "My Dearest, My Fairest." Difficult work since my weaker, less certain voice tends to get pulled off pitch by V's more powerful singing. But I fight on, regarding duets as the ultimate form of song.
To improve my voice's conviction I practice a lot at home although I have to improvise given that I must sing alone. One solution is to hum the soprano line, high though it is. Another is to sing along with professionals one finds among the snippets on Youtube. Just recently I discovered a version sung by JB and Dietrich Fischer-Diskau. Perfect. Since my voice blots out DF-D it's as if I'm alone with JB. Quite thrilling.
Tonight I watched the Janet Baker which I had recorded. It was very moving, especially when she talked about ageing. There was a particular scene where another professional opera singer ( forgotten her name) was following the soundtrack of JB and mouthing and anticipating which was just what an ignoramus to the technicalities of music like me needs.
ReplyDeleteDido immediately brought back a memory for me from my GR10 walk (traverse of the Pyrenees) - below is a rather long relevant extract from my journal. I have included a bit of the aftermath of the meeting because you knew Tony, and my diversion from the GR10 to encircle the Pi du Midi was all tied together with meeting Englebert and paying homage to Tony. Looking back now it could have been better expressed, but too late now. Englebert made a bigger impression on me than I may have indicated here. That probably justifies, on this occasion, your dogma that better writing ensues after the event rather than in the heat of the moment, an opinion I believe is not necessarily always true.
On returning home I bought the Hogwood, Catherine Bott as Dido and Emma Kirkby as Belinda version.
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Tuesday 24th June 2003
Day 13
Rest day at Etsout
Before the evening meal I returned to the bar for a drink, and there was David and Richard with a Dutch guy called Englebert who was staying at my gîte….
Wednesday 25th June 2003
Etsaut to Pic du Midi d’Ossau
Day 14
I breakfasted with Englebert who spoke good English….
(We walked together that morning.)
,,,Englebert was good company. He was a happy and positive person. He had retired two years ago from primary school teaching and said he missed the children and his work. He sings in a choir and had a sound knowledge of classical music and we talked a lot about this. Englebert was also involved in a scheme encouraging children to construct and learn to play bamboo flutes in groups. Apparently this is organised by an Englishwoman on a European scale. Englebert had completed pilgrimages from Holland to Spain and from Holland to Rome. Each of these had involved more than 1500 kilometres of walking. Later David told me these pilgrimages were motivated by the death of Englebert’s sister from cancer. Part of the day followed a long wild valley reminiscent of Scotland. We stopped for rests, and unashamedly, to soak up the atmosphere and wonderful scenery which Englebert obviously deeply enjoyed. He told me he had chosen the music for his funeral from Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas (Dido’s Lament).
We descended into a wild valley with lakes and called at a supposedly closed refuge which was being refurbished where we managed to get Oranginas and a very substantial cheese sandwich, and refills of water.
From Col d’Ayous 2185m (7,166ft) we got great views of Pic du Midi d’Ossau.
Shortly after this I said goodbye to the unforgettable Englebert, and turned off up the valley to encircle the Pic du Midi d’Ossau. Climbing this peak was not an option because it involves technical rock climbing. Two or three years ago I came to Spain with Tony to stay with Derek Walker in Panticosa intending to climb on this face, but it was under snow and we climbed in the valley instead. With that trip in mind I had special feelings about making this tour.
Sir Hugh: The (American) singer you refer to is Joyce DiDonato, though I confess I have difficulty remembering her name and had to flick through my opera DVDs to check it. She's world-renowned and I was impressed that such a currently successful singer was willing to be so generous with her time. The bit I liked was when JB admitted to singing along when she ("seasonally") attended church services. Quick cut to DiDonato: "Lucky congregation."
ReplyDeleteIn the way of things music and varying emotions are entwined in your reminiscences. I find this happening more and more. Despite the ludicrous outfit JB was wearing, each time I played that aged video of the Lament, preparatory to including it in my post, I was overwhelmed by the expressiveness of JB's young voice. Also the power when she needed it. It is appropriate that both Tony and Engelbert (this is the more likely spelling) should be evoked through musical references.
When I casually agreed to Tony staying with us, I found myself subsequently wondering what we'd talk about. After all I hardly knew him and I doubted an evening of rock-climbing anecdotes could be sustained. You can guess what happened. And that was long before I decided to take singing lessons. For selfish reasons I regret Tony's death. When I'm not singing I yearn to talk about singing. But I know few people who are capable of this. My lack of sociability is biting back. Tony would have helped.
This of course is one of those occasions when some reflection can be an aid to what we write. Shooting from the hip (especially when recalling a musical event) we often find ourselves embarrassed by what we re-read. It is difficult to suppress a tendency to gush. The better option is to regard what we write as a tribute in itself; this requires some thought and careful testing of words that spring up instinctively - there's a very real risk they'll turn out to be banal. Bad writing is a poor tribute.
By the way, you shouldn't knock yourself for musical ignorance. Must of us are ignorant and you've made the first important step by buying and (I hope) continuing to buy CDs. One solution is to watch masterclasses on YouTube (As I write I'm watching Joyce DiDonato polishing up a very advanced student in a Mozart aria- it tells me bags). Pick an aria (or a sonata or whatever) you're familiar with and tack "masterclass" on to the search. Let some young cleverclogs make the mistakes and profit from them. OK the music is broken into pieces but it's still music. And you're learning, more or less without effort.