Singing again

 

SHE’S GOING TO LET ME WORK ON EVENING HYMN!!!!!  YAAAAAAAAAAY!  SHE’S GOING TO LET ME WORK ON DIDO’S LAMENT!  YAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!

Ahem.  First voice lesson today was nowhere near as dire as I was expecting.  I was expecting dire.  I told you that I’d got all solemn and mature and responsible a month or so ago and decided (solemnly and responsibly) that even if Nadia started up again (and she’d left in the summer saying that she hoped she’d be teaching again before Christmas) with the puppy coming and the pressing need to get on with work* I would not, repeat not, consider starting again till the new year.  Uh-huh.  That pledge lasted about two-thirds of a second after Nadia’s email offering me a slot arrived.

Meanwhile . . . I have not been behaving responsibly.  I can’t remember how much of this got on the blog, but after Nadia went on maternity leave** I had a great hedonistic wallow in unsuitable opera.  It’s very hard not to want to sing, however inadequately, music that is engraved on your heart, and if your voice teacher suddenly leaves you on your own with the splendid manifesto, Enjoy your singing!, you may allow yourself to stray into paths of unrighteousness.  And singing stuff that’s engraved on your heart means you don’t have to learn the frelling tune first.  I don’t have the top end for high soprano, but there’s plenty of mezzo for me to get in trouble with.***  So I sang both Cherubino’s big arias, the totally barking Azucena frothing at the mouth in Stride la vampa which is huge fun, my personal unattainable grail Una voce poco fa which is Rosina saying all you blokes I’m going to win this one, Che Faro of course, and Dido’s Lament.  I’d started to look at Dido officially with Blondel, but I couldn’t hold that top ‘G’ yet—and it’s a horribly naked G, even if you can dance on it without strain, like the mere top F in Che Faro still usually scares me into a screech† even though the note itself is no big deal.

Then I calmed down a little and started trying to do what Nadia had suggested, which included a Purcell song, Love quickly is pall’d.  Which reminded me of Evening Hymn, which I had worked on with Blondel and decided to look at again because I love love it.  And then Stuff Got in The Way and I started singing less and less—except when out hurtling with hellhounds, but even that’s been less than previously since we’re spending way too much time on in-town hurtles to avoid ratbag off-lead dogs—and then I began to notice how much less noise I was making, and how much thinner the noise was without Nadia taking me apart and putting me back together in a new improved schema every week.  At which point singing morale went downhill fast and besides I had this novel to finish writing.

But this last week, when I knew I was going to be seeing Nadia again, what came out of the ridiculously tall pile of vocal music beside the piano?  Purcell’s Evening Hymn.  What the doodah.  I knocked some of the dust off a couple of old pieces that had been less unsuccessful than others because I was assuming we were going to have to drop back a few leagues and have a fresh run at this singing thing, but I also took Evening Hymn with me today thinking that I would beg and plead to be allowed to work on it, I’m only doing any of this for fun, you know?  So why not work on something I adore, if it’s not going to give Nadia migraines and heartburn?  But I tried to prepare myself for the possibility of migraines and heartburn, and having to stick to Love quickly is pall’d, which is a perfectly nice song, but . . .

The first thing that happened†† was that Nadia got me singing again in about ten minutes.  How does she DO that???  And she gave me some more warm-ups which is good not only because all warm-up exercises are always good, but because even the ones you like you get bored with eventually†††.  And then she asked me what I’d been singing and I said, Er.  Um.  But when I humbly pulled Evening Hymn out she said, Oh, I love that.  Yes, you can sing that.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So we worked on that and it was WONDERFUL.  YAAAAAAAAAY.  And then she said almost in passing, you can sing Dido too.  Why don’t you bring it in next time?

* * *

* And frelling doodles.^  Arrrgh.  SHADOWS is effectively done, but I’m still wrestling with a few editorial queries.  And then there looms the vast terrifying cliff of PEG II and III.  But I didn’t want to write a trilogy.  I NEVER WANTED TO WRITE A TRILOGY.  Allow me to moan once again that I do not know how these endless-series people do it.  I think I must be missing a crucial chromosome.

^ I wonder if I could teach some hellcritter to doodle?  Darkness clearly has an artistic soul.

** He’s^ HUGE.  He’s only three months old but he looks about ready to start kindergarten.

^ I’m naming him Renfrew.  When I choose a blog name I usually look up the meaning and do a quick google against the possibility that some horribly embarrassing person has the name.  There don’t seem to be any headline-grabbing politicians, bank managers or porn stars named Renfrew, so that’s all right.  But the meanings vary more than usual.  As a surname, it’s Scottish.  As a first name, it’s Welsh, and it may mean ‘raven woods’ or ‘calm river’.   Maybe the ravens like water.  Maybe Renfrew will grow up to be confusing and multi-faceted.

*** I am surprised at myself that I have no desire to sing Carmen, even for silly at home with Peter asleep^ and only the hellcritters listening.  I adore the opera, it is one of those big fabulous roles that every big fabulous mezzo must sing, and it’s not like I have anything against self-destructive sexuality, I’d sing Violetta like a shot if I had the upper register for it.  But Carmen?  Nah.  Not my girl.

^ Although this is not reliable.  I am very grateful that he is a doting husband and thinks I sound nice.

† Sigh.

†† No, before that, Nadia’s mum came in with Nadia’s daughter, who wanted to say hello to me.  I had no idea I had even registered with Stella, but it’s not unpleasing to have a three-year-old grinning happily at you like you’ve been best friends since birth.  And that was before she found out about the small furry hobgoblin in the car.

††† Like puppies and their toys.  We all want NEW and SHINY.

* * *

Here are two of my favourite Didos.  I recommend you don’t watch either of them:  the Baker shows its age pretty badly, and while the sound quality does too, that voice comes through magnificently.  And they’ve got Norman up as some kind of galactic goddess and spare me.  But again, the voice, the voice.

Janet Baker  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_50zj7J50U

Jessye Norman  http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v=jOIAi2XwuWo&feature=endscreen

And my two, possibly eccentric, favourites of Evening Hymn of those easily found on YouTube:

Ian Howell http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e71cc85rKY8

Julie Carlston http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTh2lJglpLU