Ruminations on Adele's "Deep" lyrics, disabled larynx

There is a large sorority of popular singers who sound like they're suffering from bad allergies: Those sexy gals with low, raspy voices who yawn into the microphone and sound pinched when they sing a rare high note.

I'm talking about Norah Jones, Adele, Dido, Corinne Bailey Rae, Colbie Caillat, Sade, and the dear departed Amy Winehouse. It's thrilling to hear a singer performing the vocal equivalent of walking a tightrope -- will she hit that note or will she fall off? However, I spend a lot of my professional time trying to keep young singers from dwelling too long in this style. It's not healthy.

Adele, the 21-year old British chanteuse who sounds like Dusty Springfield's illegitimate daughter, recently canceled her U.S. tour due to a vocal hemhorrhage. In fact, this was her second major vocal crisis in a year. Adele's grainy, uneven vocal tone, exacerbated by smoking and the demands of touring, is not sustainable. I gather they've told her to go to vocal rehab and thankfully she has not said "no, no, no."

I have to admit I'm drawn to song of hers. Rolling In the Deep is an almost-great song and fun to hear. However, the  lyrics, co-written by Adele and Paul Ellworth, don't match the strong melody and performance. Every time I hear this song I think, "Almost!" I like the chorus the best --  a great match of words and music: You had my heart inside your hands/and you played it to the beat. Until I read the lyrics I thought she was singing You had my heart and soul in your hands, and I like that image and soul rhymes slightly better with the beginning of the chorus, We could have had it all -- even if technically having two items in a jerk's hands (one's heart and soul) would therefore demand changing played it to played them to the beat. I know . . . nitpicking.

Verse One: Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark -- did they forget the "of" as in "out of the dark," or was that intentional? Or does she mean she's bringing out the darkness of her mood? I can't figure it out. And why did she repeat these opening lyrics at the end of the first verse? She didn't do it on any other verses. Finally I can see you crystal clear/Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your sh-t bare. Sell out? What the heck happened, Adele? I'm confused! And, why use a scatological word in the first verse? To a 21 year old it might not be a swear word, but really, girl, once you go blue here's nowhere left to go, just ask Cee-Lo Green. And can we rhyme clear with something else? How about extending the whole fire metaphor: Smoke and cinders fill my eyes with tears /Burn up the past but it won't help me forget the years. I know, it's not great -- but neither is yours.

Bridge to the Chorus: The scars of your love remind me of us  . . . they leave me breathless. Wow, those must be some scars if they interfere with your ability to breathe. Diagnosis: Love Pneumonia.

Musically, I am puzzled by Adele's "rolling in the deep" on the highest notes in her head voice range. She sings "deep" on the C above middle C. It's an odd juxtaposition of that good melody and that good lyric. Maybe only picky voice teachers find it odd.

Verse two: Baby, I have no story to be told/but I've heard the one on you and I'm gonna make your head burn. I understand she's trying to connect the fire images from verse one and also keep the tone angry, but it's a weak link. Told and burn do not rhyme. Eminem manages to rhyme when he's ticked off, why not you, Adele?

What about Baby, I have no story to be told, but I've read the book on you and now your head will roll. What's wrong with that? Makes me think of Henry VIII! Or, I heard it all from her, it's seared into my soul. Why not confirm that there was another woman? That would be justifiable, rhyming anger.

Verse three: Throw your soul through every open door. Who's doing the throwing, Adele or the jerk? Each scenario is plausible. But, the whole stanza is a jarring mix of images: Soul-throwing, then counting blessings, then sorrows becoming golden, then reaping what you sow (my favorite of the four). All of the lines end in half-rhymes or oblique rhymes.

For those seeking an advanced degree in Adele Lyrical Studies: Please figure out whether these rhyme schemes were intentional. As for me, I'll continue to enjoy deconstructing and rewriting Rolling In The Deep every time I hear it. Adele, during your vocal rest I know you'll be writing songs. Just be sure to have a thesaurus and a rhyming dictionary next to your Throat Coat tea. Or, call me up! ;)

Can't wait to hear what you do next.

Singer needs massage.

Busy, busy, busy!

This fall I am teaching voice lessons in four locations around Rhode Island: Salve Regina University in Newport, Jacqueline M. Walsh School for Performing Arts in Pawtucket, Rhode Island Philharmonic Music School in East Providence, and St. Luke Episcopal Church in East Greenwich. I also teach a few students voice and piano at my home in Charlestown. I am teaching six days a week at the moment. Looks like Sunday will be my Sabbath rest, at least for the next month or two, and that's good!

I'm also subbing as a cantor and organist when asked, and I'm in the middle of singing my first High Holy Days with Temple Beth-El in Providence. Some of the members of the eight-voice choir have been participating for decades, and I'm honored to be with them. It requires every bit of focus I have to sight-sing 30 to 40 choral works in phonetic Hebrew  (sometimes transposed!) for three hours at a stretch -- and that's just rehearsal! I have learned that I need to rest and eat more before the services; when I'm hungry and tired, I miss entrances. I am in awe of Cantor Judy Seplowin, who will be singing her heart out for ten hours on Yom Kippur while observing the fast. The choir is 95% Gentile, so we're sneaking out for lunch! Apparently it's tradition.

I spotted some of my fellow choir members at a stunning performance of the Bach B Minor Mass last Friday in Providence . . . the Ecclesia Consort draws (and deserves) that kind of support. I brought along a score and happily read along, even though they had tuned down about half a step (which tends to throw off a gal with perfect pitch).

Does all this singing and teaching leave me tired? Absolutely. Would I appreciate a three hour long massage if I could ever find three hours in a row? Sure. Do I want to stop any of it? No way! It's too much fun!

I was talking with my True Love about this. I was telling him about the retired lady student who had lived and worked near the same places I lived and worked -- and who sang Puccini to relax; the road-tripping student whose grandkids are in my daughter's class -- who got rid of some vocal tension; the student whose part time jobs matched my sister's part time jobs at the same age -- and was learning how to make a rounded "oo"; the smart, shy high schooler who was becoming aware of her talent as well as her technique -- and getting compliments from her choir teacher for the very first time. And that was just Monday!

Music enriches my life -- by deepening my prayers in a house of worship (even if I don't completely understand them); by bringing satisfaction and joy as I hear my fellow musicians at the top of their game; and by giving me a way to meet students, who often become great friends. I'm grateful for those who taught me music, and grateful for those who I teach now.

(But yeah, I really would like the three-hour massage. On a Sunday.)

What I remember

I missed it all. I got my son and his friend to school but I had turned the radio off. I hid out in my classroom prepping madly before the five year olds came in for music class. When the kindergarten teacher collected her students, she quietly told me all the awful things that had happened. We knew that we were probably not in imminent danger -- classes went on, the electricity was working, there was no airport near us. But the world had changed. Every church in town had a prayer service that night. At Mass, I wanted to sing The Battle Hymn Of The Republic, but we got On Eagle's Wings instead, which made me angry. I wanted St. Michael The Archangel and was dissatisfied with the Paraclete.

The next morning the sky was empty and quiet. My 3 year old son told his preschool teacher, "The tower got an owie." A friend emailed that her cousin was missing from Cantor Fitzgerald, would everyone please pray for him. Some veterans from the Greatest Generation were visiting the school that morning, after speaking at the college up the hill. We found out that one of the veterans had lost his son and brand new daughter-in-law on the flight that crashed into the Pentagon. The young couple was flying off to their honeymoon. The college was arranging to drive the man home; we didn't see him. The choir performed "America The Beautiful" for the veterans. We had always planned to sing all four verses. It seemed slightly excessive the day before and absolutely necessary the day after. They sang it beautifully and reverently. I wanted it to go well, and it did.

We watched the Tribute To Heroes telethon a week later and I liked Billy Joel and Tom Petty the best. We watched The Who bring catharsis to all the surviving first responders at the The Concert For New York City. God Bless The U.S.A., God Bless America, and Imagine played in endless rotation. Samuel Barber's Adagio For Strings was . . . even sadder.

On September 11 I'll be singing, too, and I'll remember.

"Quon"-gratulations

We just finished the inaugural performances of Quonnie: The Musical. What a great weekend!

"Quon"-grats to all who sang, acted, made costumes, painted sets, sold tickets, helped corral kids, and generally made this show such a pleasure to create. We had wonderfully enthusiastic audiences, we were able to donate some of the proceeds to the Quonochontaug Historical Society, and the kids had a great time!

It went so well, in fact, that we will repeat the show in 2012. I've done this before; I did an encore presentation of The Odyssey because it was well-received, and I wanted to see if the kids remembered anything! (They did).

For the first time ever, I'm selling my lyrics in a songbook format -- "Quonnie: The Songbook." I had never even given it thought, but a nice mom suggested I do it, and now I'm kind of excited to work on this project! If you want to order a songbook (or a DVD of the show), just email me. I have extra songs that didn't make it into the show; I'll throw those in, too.

I'm one of those people who likes to know what she'll be doing 12 months from now (a family trait). In fact, I have already purchased my day planner for 2012 and am filling it in, so this past weekend has been delightful for Planner Eden.

One of the songs in the musical was called "Rocks Of The Quonnie," to the tune of "Rock A Bye Baby."

It was all about the huge rocks that grace our beach. They have cute names like Profile Rock and Turtle Rock, and interesting histories. We had seven sweet young ladies sing the "rock parts" in the show, and my son made a "rock map" for the program to show where they were. Great idea, but . . . this past weekend I've toured friends and family to those rocks -- everyone wanted to see where they were! -- unfortunately, three of them are on property that used to be public, but is now private. We got some very suspicious looks from people. I don't know how much longer I can go up those driveways and pretend to be a geographically challenged tourist.

The only solution is. . .write another song.

RSCM: Really Spectacular Churchy Musicmaking

I just returned from a week of wonderful music-making at the Royal School of Church Music-America's Choir Camp at Newport. I was the vocal coach, which meant I spent hours standing up, walking around, teaching voice classes and modeling good choral technique for 60 trebles and 14 adults. I wish there had been time to work with each singer individually! I did try to spread the gospel of vocal technique as revealed to me by Jeannette LoVetri. ;) You can see some photos of the camp here. We sang spirituals, motets, hymns with larynx-rending descants (written by the 11 year olds in "Descant Class"!), and we chanted a lot of Psalms. Our wonderful organist improvised preludes on the spot. We congregated in choir lofts and choir stalls. We used no microphones. We sang the Mozart "Little Organ Mass" in Latin. The rehearsals were held in the opulent rooms of Ochre Court, the mansion that was donated to the Sisters of Charity in the 1940s and became the first building of the Salve Regina campus. Singing classical music in Ochre Court in summer happily reminded me of my summer singing with AIMS in Graz, Austria!

While we were hosted by a Catholic university, the Morning Prayer and Compline were Anglican, the venues for our Evensong and liturgy were Episcopal, and the choirs at Newport all came from Episcopal and Congregational churches. It was very beautiful and reverent, but I was a little sad when I realized  it will be a long time before I see 74 Catholic singers from ten different choirs spend a week of their lives in Rhode Island, learning how to sing better at Mass. RSCM America does have some Catholic parishes using its curriculum, and I hope more find out about it. I wish I had known more about it when I was a choir director/cantor at St. Anthony in Hillsdale, Michigan.

My True Love was off picking up our kids from camp, so some of my fellow church musicians -- Jason, Ben, Astrid, Zach, Ernest, Mark, Waylon -- took me out to dinner at The Black Pearl for my birthday. They helped me remember there are good things about getting little bit older -- namely, you make more and more good friends! The best part was when I revealed my true age and one dinner companion looked at me and said, "Bitch."

And now, on to Quonnie: The Musical, which is in rehearsals right now. The entire 15-member cast arrives tonight for rehearsal. The kids have memorized their lines so tonight instead of a runthrough of just the songs, I'm going to try to run the whole show. Today I'm also making rocks out of refrigerator boxes. I love my life!

A Lazy Afternoon

Forget Afternoon Delight. Keep your Under the Boardwalk. Ditch that Summer in The City.  Lazy Afternoon is my favorite summer song.

It's from the musical The Golden Apple by Jerome Moross and John LaTouche -- the show updated the Helen of Troy legend to 1950s Washington State. It's okay that you've probably never heard of it; some colleges perform it, but it has never had a major revival -- it doesn't deserve one, except for this song! I love how the chords progress back and forth from minor to major, and I also love the Faulkner-esque (Capote-esque?) lyrics ("and I know a place that's quiet/ with daisies runnin' riot/ with no one passin' by it to see"). It sounds like it could be Caddy's nine o'clock number from the musical version of The Sound And The Fury.

Kay Ballard, portraying Helen, sang Lazy Afternoon on the original cast soundtrack. I think she is a little too lazy with the pitches, swooping and moaning. I do like the vibraphone, for it dates the rendition appropriately.

The first version I ever heard was by Barbra Streisand back in the 1980s, when she came out of retirement the first time and did a TV special. Being Barbra, she hits every note dead on, and Marvin Hamlisch has some nice little electronic keyboard moments drip-dropping against a reedy double bass. But do I believe Streisand could relax enough to really live this song? Nah.

There are countless other versions, all with good moments. Tony Bennett, Eartha Kitt, June Christy, et al. But my all-time favorite version is by Joan Morris, a mezzo-soprano voice professor at the University of Michigan. She has spent decades performing the Great American Songbook in concert with her husband, the Pultizer Prize-winning composer William Bolcom. About fifteen years ago, I stumbled upon Let's Do It, a CD they recorded of a live concert from 1987. Every track is a gem, from Wait 'Til The Sun Shines Nellie to Let's Put Out The Lights (And Go To Bed) to the hilarious version of the Cole Porter title track. But the standout, for me, is this song. Just listen to Morris sing Lazy Afternoon. She is all quiet, intoxicating invitation, while Bolcom provides spare but completely effective piano. I have assigned this song to a few of my private students over the years, just so I can play the Bolcom accompaniment again by ear. When Morris sings, I can see Helen on the porch with her tea and "cake that was never richer," and Paris prostrate before her. Perfection! Who needs A/C?

"Quonnie: The Musical" -- read it right here

Click here for Scene One and the first song of Quonnie: The Musical!

The garden's growing!

Lots of flowers in the garden . . .lots of projects in the works!

1. Auditions for Quonnie: The Musical are Monday, July 11 at 6pm here in Charlestown RI. Quonnie kids ages 5 and up are invited to audition. I've written singing and non-singing parts, and I'm editing the first full draft now! The musical is all about Quonochontaug, the area of Rhode Island I call home. In the mid 1670s, Quonnie was illegally sold to British settler Thomas Stanton, by a "fake" Native American. That history is covered in our show, as is Thomas Edison's disastrous flirtation with Quonnie as a potential factory site, and the catastrophic direct hit of the 1938 hurricane. As I've researched this project, I've discovered that everyone loves Quonnie because it never seems to "change" - a funny thing to hear about a place that's 400+ years old! But, the Quonnie's natural beauty is constant, as is the friendliness of its people. Shows will be August 19 and 21 at the Quonnie Grange.

2. I'm serving as a voice coach/teacher at the Royal School of Church Music camp, to be held at Salve Regina University in Newport August 1-7. I'm excited to work with these talented young singers! There are still openings for youth and adult singers -- consider making this your musical family vacation. Sacred music in a beautiful seaside location. . . be like the Von Trapps, with salt water!

3. And here . . . garden photos. I'm not one of those people who thinks stone fences are pretty all on their own. So, I have been building up berms of dirt against the 140-foot fence, and loading in plants from my former garden, my mother's garden, and my mother-in-law's garden. The church secretary gave me some hosta, too. I think it looks good so far . . . need more Asiatic lilies and boxwoods!

Eden's Excellent Ecumenical Adventure

To me, bad sacred music is like poison ivy. It irritates! It distracts! And once you have it, it's hard to ignore. But, in the past few weeks I've had some musical experiences that have been, for me, the aural equivalent of calamine lotion. Ahhhhh! Relief! First, I stumbled upon St. Paul's Catholic Church in Cambridge MA. I was in the Boston area for the weekend, and it was 5pm on a Saturday, and I saw people scurrying into Mass, so I did too. What a wonderful treat! The organ melodies swelled and bounced off of the marble surfaces of the altar and walls. Then, in the pew in front of me I spied Hymns, Psalms, and Spiritual Canticles -- a revered but out-of-print hymnal compiled by the late great Dr. Theodore Marier. Marier helped develop the Ward Method of musical instruction -- the method I learned as a young teacher in Virginia, and still use today. Marier was a devoted supporter of beautiful traditional sacred music and polyphony, and he founded the famous Boston Boy Choir. I met him once at a chant worshop in Washington DC -- very nice, humble man. I opened up the hymnal and read a little of the preface. . . so here was Marier's hymnal. . . being used in his old church. At that moment I realized that this parish was Marier's "lab" -- here was where he composed all of his great melodies, and where he taught beautiful sacred music to generations of young singers! (Eden looks up to Heaven: Dr. Marier, they're doing a great job! I only hope that the upcoming new translation of the Mass doesn't result in the loss of all the beautiful melodies you created.) My friend Douglas, the music director at my former parish in Michigan, is also composing new liturgical music. I thought of him as I participated in Mass at St. Paul's. Dr. Marier had 52 years to work on his compositions; Douglas is on year 5. Alles Gute! ;)

For the second time in my life I attended a synagogue service. Last time, it was the 1980s and I was visiting a local synagogue with members of my Methodist church for a "discovering many religions" youth trip. (All I remember is that the rabbi's parking space had a sign that said "Thou Shalt Not Park Here" and the word shit appeared in the phonetic translations of the Hebrew, which we all found scandalous and amusing. ) This time, I was part of a small chorus that sang for Shabbat Eve service at the lovely Reform Temple Beth-El in Providence. What a happy experience! Cantor Judy Slepowin has an amazing voice and she led both her choir and her congregation with great skill and talent. Three out of four choir members were Gentile voice teachers from Rhode Island, which made it even more fun. The other singers were familiar with the music and the service, but I was sight reading everything. They helped me figure out what to sing, when. I liked being on my toes! There was new music to sing about every minute or so and it seemed to be drawn from many different styles and eras. I glanced at the copyright dates of some of the songs and some were composed very recently, others were obviously very traditional. Some of it was Israeli folk melody and sounded like it could have been sung by Miriam herself. Some was unaccompanied Hebrew chant, and a couple of songs sounded rather modern, almost like they were straight out of a hotel lounge in Tel Aviv. I found it all fascinating, liturgically and musically. Throughout the whole hour, the vibe was undeniably joyful, and everyone participated in the singing and prayers. (Later someone told me that this was an especially good night, that sometimes it's quieter and not as well-attended. I'm glad I was there on such a good night.)

The service was held in a small side chapel, and it was filled. Two new adult members were welcomed into the congregation, and a young boy was recognized because the next day was his Bar Mitzvah. Everyone in the congregation sang at least the first part of each song that Cantor Judy started, and several times they knew the melodies well enough to sing all the way to the end. After the service, everyone stayed to pray and sing as the challah was broken for the reception -- which also included a healthy dose of coffee, chocolate desserts . . .and fruit for the dietetically righteous. I also got a good look at the Rabbi. She's about nine months pregnant, she had stood up for an hour! ;) A sheynem dank and thank you for having me!

Two days later I was in the choir loft of St. Luke's Episcopal Church in East Greenwich RI. I have been teaching voice at St. Luke's for a couple of months now, and it's been a very happy experience to help the choristers develop their voices. A few weeks ago, a couple of my private students brought in a piece they were going to be singing on a future Sunday. It was not just any old choir piece -- it was "How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place" from the Brahms Requiem. I've never heard it performed in a church, and the last time I sang it was freshman year of college. It's a lush, gorgeous, Romantic choral piece. And this choir was going to sing it for Offertory! So, after helping my singers learn their parts, I invited myself to "help out" in the choir loft on Brahms Sunday. I almost cried at the beauty as I sang those arching lines once again. Priscilla Rigg, the music director, had been worried about having enough singers to pull off the Brahms -- lots of singers away for the weekend due to graduations, etc. -- but it worked. The children of the church's St. Cecilia youth choir were robed up and present, too. Priscilla had them sit and listen to the adults as they sang. "You're going to hear something very special today," she told them. She was right.

All in all, May has been an Excellent Ecumenical Adventure! Onward!

Questions for the high school musical performer

Dear High School Musical Theater Performer, Do you want me to tell you what I really thought of your performance, or do you just want to hear "Great job"? I didn't think so. You're a mature high schooler. So, you really want to know? Okay. I only say this because I care about you.

I know you gave it a shot. I know that you put time and effort into rehearsals and you had a lot of fun. But, did you have any idea who your character was? The walk, the talk, the attitude, the genealogy? Did you read the book on which your show was based? The Cliffs Notes? Did you at least consult Wikipedia? I didn't think so.

Well, you should have done that work. And then you should have written a description of your character in your own words (better yet, in your character's own words), and handed it in to your director (who should have required it), and discussed it with him/her and your fellow cast members. Did you know that that would have made your performance instantly better? Did you know anything about the time frame or history in which your show's events took place? I didn't think so, for I saw your show's chorus members slapping high fives and gang signs onstage while dressed in petticoats and tall hats. It looked wierd. (Then again, it didn't help that your show was terribly written. That show was astonishing in its insipidness. But I don't hold that against you.)

Did you know that if you have no idea how to sing or project your voice without a microphone, you are completely out of luck if the battery goes dead in the middle of your two-measure solo? Did you know that when you use microphones you tend to forget how to execute basic blocking, and sometimes you sing with your butt to the audience? Did you know that about half the time, microphones short out or crackle and pop loudly? You didn't know that? I didn't think so.

Did you watch the film version of your show? Or, did you just watch clips on YouTube, you lazy bum? Did you bother to compare the film version to the stage version, and decide with your director when you were going to consciously imitate (*cough* pay tribute, *cough* copy) the film and when you were going to attempt to be original? I didn't think so.

Did you know that your show was written a while back, and those strange words in the script used to be modern slang? You didn't know that, homeboy? I didn't think so. Therefore, when you didn't comprehend something about your show or your character, you just kept on going, assuming that no one would realize that you had no idea what you were doing? Well, I noticed it -- many times. And I'm not that old, or even that culturally literate. (Here's a rather good modern performance of a dusty old number from a creaky old show.)

Were you at all aware that you were joining your work with the artistic contributions of the thousands of performers who also wore those costumes, danced those dances, recited those lines, and sang those songs? It sounds very "arteeste" but this is in fact what you were doing. There will be thousands more doing it after you. Did you know how important it is to show some respect for yourself and your character, and all the people who played that part before you and all the people who will play it after you, by learning as much possible about the part you are playing in the show you are doing? I didn't think so.

Am I hurting your feelings? Am I being mean and overly judgmental? Am I not recognizing how hard you worked? Am I laying blame at the wrong feet? I don't think so. Dear one, you get credit for trying. It's not professional theater, it's high school. You're learning. I'm sympathetic. But you say you want to perform in college, or beyond. You might not be a professional yet, but at what point do you intend to start behaving -- acting -- like one, even a little? This is what the pros do. They don't perform unless they're informed. You must learn everything you can about your character and your setting, how to deliver lines and songs without gadgets, and how to be a performing artist. Start now.

Yes, I'll still come see your next show. I want to see you. I'll support you every time you give it a shot. But if I see the same uninformed, overly amplified performance out of you next time, I'm going to flee the theater at intermission and order a well-deserved margarita at the closest bar. Who cares if I miss your solo? Your microphone's going to short out, anyway.

Would you notice if I was gone? I didn't think so.

By the way, Great Job.

Love, Eden

Sing Amen, Somebody!

It was late afternoon when Mr. C said, "Isn't tonight the last night of Lenten Hymnal Study?" We'd only been to one meeting due to schedule conflicts, but it was great -- Mr. C's parish (where we were married) invited parishioners to learn more about the hymns of the 1982 Anglican hymnal . . . and sing 'em. So, we went to last night's meeting, the final one of the study. Each week we'd sing a few hymns and hear more about the history of each one. Fifty of us sat in chairs in the multipurpose room. We pulled out the hymnals, the church organist took his place at the piano, and Rev. J started to call out hymn numbers. Tonight wasn't a hymn study -- it was a wonderful orgy of hymn singing!! He had a long list of hymns that had been requested by members of the group and we worked through all of them.  . . about 20 hymns in an hour! I sightread a couple of new ones, but most were old, dear favorites. . . ."Praise To The Lord, The Almighty," "Eternal Father, Strong To Save," "Breathe On Me Breath Of God," "Ye Watchers And Ye Holy Ones," "Come Down O Love Divine," "For The Beauty Of The Earth," "Now The Green Blade Rises," "Seek Ye First." I sang many of them from memory, and so did several other folks. One lady started crying right in the middle and her friend comforted her, and they kept singing. It took me back to the  "Hymnal Sundays" of my childhood church, held once or twice a year -- the whole service was a hymn sing, sometimes with my dad at the organ and my mom in the choir (we started off, of course, with No. 1 in the Methodist Hymnal, "O For A Thousand Tongues To Sing My Great Redeemer's Praise").

I guess a Praise and Worship Team would be the contemporary version of a "Hymnal Sunday," moving from song to song with lyrics projected on a screen, and some microphoned singers in front. Glad it works for some, but that's too close to karaoke for me. I like to cradle a hymnal in my hand. I love flipping through its pages, scanning hundreds of different titles and tunes. I love watching people in the congregation squint at the small typeface, try to figure out the melody (or even the harmony), and then raise their heads and aim their voices straight at the altar when they get to a part of the hymn that they know by heart.

Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough to learn about my faith because I haven't memorized a Bible verse each week, and I don't get up at 5am with my Bible and my journal. I do manage to read a little devotional material during Lent, but I barely make it through a decade of the rosary, when I remember to do it. I realized anew last night, I've been singing my faith all my life, and the words and melodies are engraved on my heart. Church musicians know that "singing is praying twice," as St. Augustine said. Last night, I really felt it. God sings His love for me, to me, and I sing it right back. And boy, does that make me happy.

Oh, what a wonderful thing to know, heading into Holy Week! I can't wait to sing "Lift High The Cross," "Pange Lingua," "O Sacred Head Surrounded," and finally "Jesus Christ Is Risen Today."

What's your favorite hymn?

(More good news. . . my Ocean State blogger friend, the self-proclaimed "Snarky Organist" Brian Michael Page, will be starting a new job at Sacred Heart in Warwick, not too far from my home. I'm now within driving distance of a parish -- in my diocese -- that might actually find me useful! Congratulations, Brian! Hope we'll work together very soon.)

EC loves SC, but not Roller Derby

Great music, beautiful art, and a cute date -- that was my Saturday night! Mr. C and I attended the Schola Cantorum of Boston's 25th Anniversary concert at Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) in Providence. RISD just renovated the Creamer Medieval and Early Renaissance Gallery, and the Schola "blessed" the gallery's re-opening with a performance by its twelve amazing singers, directed by Frederick Jodry of Brown University.

Noticing RISD's large collection of sacred art about the Annunciation of Our Lord to the Virgin Mary, Jodry programmed music about Our Lady, including the Missus est Angelus Gabriel by di Lasso. What a sweet idea! The Schola sang the most sublime version of Victoria's Vere Languores Nostros that I have ever heard. Drat, I did not get a recording of it. But I did record the Schola singing Ecce Ancilla Domini, immediately followed by the Kyrie of the Mass based on that chant. The Schola has released several stellar recordings over its 25 years so do support their properly recorded work, don't just settle for this bootleg. ;)

Mr. C and I relaxed on a velvet couch in the back of the gallery .  . bliss, for how often do you get to hear a Mass sung while reclining? (Not often, unless you can rack out in a choir loft!) I know Mr. C is Mr. Right because we were celebrating our six-month wedding anniversary in that art gallery, listening to a really good choir. My "Chants Occurrence" buddy Brendan was there too, and he pronounced it "great." We now have 6 members of "Chants Occurrence"! That is five more than I expected to join.

Thanks, Allegra Martin, for letting me know about the concert! Allegra blogs about all things Boston and choral and she's a member of Schola Cantorum.

Later that day, Mr. C celebrated our six-month-i-versary by taking the family to my first -- and probably last -- Roller Derby. He was so excited. He wanted to buy souvenir t-shirts for the tough girls in his life. He loved the down-home atmosphere. I wanted to share the excitement with him, but failed miserably. Providence Killer Bees and Elm City Destructive Damez (whatever), I mean no offense, but I found your sport really boring. Paint-drying-on-the-wall boring.

The Bees ran away with the score-- at least I think that's what happened; all I saw were a bunch of costumed, heavily padded women skating determinedly in a very small circle. Other people seemed to like it all right, but the cheering was decidedly muted, as there was really no drama as to who was going to win. At halftime the score was a lopsided 193 to 15. I was willing to stay -- quid pro quo for my beloved Mr. C, who was new to Josquin -- but we left. I suggested mud wrestling for our one-year commemoration. Even better would be mud wrestling by members of the Schola Cantorum, while singing Victoria.

This week I'm tending a bunch of irons in the fire. I'm returning to my old parish in Michigan for Palm Sunday, I have no idea what I'll be singing except for Hosanna Filio David. Living on the edge! Then, I'm teaching a couple of  fun Elderhostel classes at Camp Michindoh in Hillsdale, and then heading to Ohio to help my parents move into their new home. Busy but productive. I'm back home in time for our annual Potluck of the Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

And now, off to teach some Episcopalian kids about good singing. Things are movin' up. Hope the kids' larynxes aren't!

Vespers -- That's How To Do It.

FINALLY!

I had the pleasure of singing Catholic Vespers. . . with a Bishop in attendance . . . all the smells and bells a penitent could stand . .  at a Catholic parish not too far from my home.

Thank you, Cheryl Banker and St. Michael the Archangel Parish of Pawcatuck CT, for supporting chant, beautiful hymnody and sacred polyphony! I had a BLAST!

We sang Laetatus Sum by Scarlatti (averted a train wreck in the soprano section -- the music ain't easy!), Palestrina Laudate Dominum, Tallis Magnificat, chanted antiphons, traditional Lenten hymns in four strong parts. Actual sound files soon.

It was also nice to see that the choir was a mix of young and old (and lots of middles), Catholics and Protestants and probably a few "not sures." We were united in our music. We rehearsed three times, and pulled it off.  I can't WAIT to do it again!

How to land a fun part-time job without really trying

Here's how I did it, folks! 1. Found out about a great choral concert presented by the Ecclesia Consort. Made plans to attend at Emmanuel Church in Newport.

2. Talked about it on my website blog (see below!)

3. Attended the concert, congratulated the singers, and was happily astonished when Emmanuel's music director said, "I read your blog yesterday because you mentioned the group and our church! It came up on Google!"

5. Was floored when he asked, "Do you by any chance teach voice lessons to kids?" (Why, yes. Yes I do.)

6. Two days later, fielded a phone call from a legendary music director at an Episcopal church in East Greenwich, RI. She was seeking a voice teacher for her choristers and had seen my website. Did a quick interview. Got the job!

So, starting next week I'll be teaching sightsinging and voice lessons at St. Luke's Episcopal Church, and may be helping with the Royal School of Church Music's summer camp for choristers, held at Salve Regina University (I teach there, too!)

As happy as I am about this development -- I totally support young kids learning how to sing beautiful sacred music -- I am still seeking a musical home in a Catholic church in my part of the diocese. When I moved here, I thought it would be possible to find at least a few -- okay, even just one -- Catholic parish with musical development programs like these, for children and adults. Or, I'd find a parish willing to start one. So far I have encountered the total, depressing opposite.

So, I feel a little like I just agreed to go to prom with the leader of the chess team, after being ignored by the football captain. Catholic parishes of Rhode Island . . . why don't you call me? Don't you know I love you? XO Eden

EC loves Ecclesia Consort

Continuing my not-at-all-penitential Lenten practice of listening to really great sacred music . . .I attended an Evensong at an Epsicopal parish in Newport. The Providence-based Ecclesia Consort was the guest choir -- one of their sopranos was the rector of this lovely church.

The all-volunteer group, led by Pierre Masse, is concluding its 19th season now . . .they'll kick off their 20th anniversary with the Bach B Minor Mass in late September. Heck yes I'll be there!

Here's the Consort singing Richard Farrant's Hide Not Thou Thy Face. What a wonderful blend. (What a terrible iPhone stealth audio engineer I am.) And here is their Ave Regina Caelorum.

I also met Brendan, a member of my Meetup group, "Chants Occurrence." We met at the front of the church following the concert. He went to seminary in my hometown and went to college in southern Michigan, near where I used to live. Small world! I'm more eager than ever to find more Chant and sacred music lovers in South County RI (South County is the nickname for this region, even though the technical name is Washington County).

Earlier that day, I cantored at St. Michael Catholic Church in Pawcatuck, CT, just over the western border. I had a great time with the organist -- we've been trying to get together for months and it finally worked out. I was in my element, sightreading music 30 minutes before Mass. I'll be joining her choir for a Lenten Evensong on April 3. So. . . I've met Catholic sacred music/chant lovers in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and now Newport . . . all of these areas are adjacent to South County. I keep telling myself, "You're getting warmer, you're getting warmer . . . "

Cats Occurrence

1. Tomorrow is my first "Meetup" with a fellow LOCAL chant lover. It was going to be "chant lovers" plural, but one got a last minute singing gig, so we're down to two. So at 4pm Sunday, two proud members of "Chants Occurrence" will be at Emmanuel Church in Newport, for a performance of early sacred music by the Ecclesia Consort. Here's my meetup info: http://www.meetup.com/Chants-Occurrence/events/16860707/?a=cr1o_grp&rv=cr1o 2. Choral Conductor Allegra Martin has a fun blog about all things choral in Boston . . . she also features Guest Cat Posts on Fridays -- how great is that? -- and this week it's my turn. Thanks, Allegra! I have two more cats ready for fame on a future Friday.

Cats and Chant. All in all, a good weekend. ;)

"Runaways," the little show of horrors

I saw a production of Elizabeth Swados' Runawaysover the weekend. The show debuted on Broadway in 1978 and ran for several months.

Since then, it has been a cult favorite for directors who recoil at Babes In Arms and want teens to do hard-hitting, "real" theater. For Runaways, Swados interviewed real teen runaways, and even put a few in the show. . .similar to what Michael Bennett did with dancers and A Chorus Line a few years prior.

Many musicals ask the audience to look at the unpleasant, the uncomfortable, or the downright awful. The heightened musical style actually amplifies the horror of reality -- each complements the other. A very incomplete list would include "If You Could See Her" from Cabaret, " "You've Got To Be Carefully Taught," from South Pacific, "Can't Help Lovin' That Man" from Show Boat, "A Little Priest" from Sweeney Todd . . or "Electric Chair" or pretty much any number from The Scottsboro Boys,which I had the pleasure of seeing during its short Broadway run last year. The humor and the lyricism lengthen the dark shadows of these scenes and lend them greater impact.

Runaways has shock value, but no lasting impact. I liked some individual performances, but didn't care for the show overall. Because it's a revue, we never really get to know the characters --  only their endless misery, which makes for some tedious theater: A kid shoots heroin, a kid's parents cut his back with shards from the broken TV, two kids kill another one, a teenager can't leave her pimp. When there's no contrast, the tragedies run together. The run time was over two hours (about an hour longer than I thought it needed to be), several monologues covered the same territory, and the songs were numbingly repetitive, both thematically and musically. The message: BEING A RUNAWAY IS REALLY AWFUL! Okay, okay, we get it. We got it in the first three minutes, and after that . . . .?

Hallelujah, it's Lent (almost)!

Father, forgive me: I love Lent. The Dogma Dogs of Franciscan University of Steubenville have the same idea.

In fact, I celebrate the liturgies of Lent! The first time I attended an Ash Wednesday service, I was in RCIA. I was so thrilled to get to participate in a sacrament. . . even though it was not technically required. I loved getting those ashes. I didn't wash my forehead for days. I love attending Stations of the Cross and recalling the Passion. I love having some special readings and devotions in my purse. I love the huge changes in the Palm Sunday Mass, from the triumphant "Hosanna" at the beginning of Mass to the too-quiet, unnerving ending, a foreshadowing of the Triduum. I love processing through the incense-filled church to "Pange Lingua," then watching the altar being stripped bare on Holy Thursday. I love the long, long line to kiss the Crucifix at Good Friday. I LOVE IT!

Musically, to me, Lent is the Most Wonderful Time Of The Year. Everyone seems to get more focused, and when they do get loud, it's not a boast or a joyful cry -- it's a supplication. Simple melodies. Aching, yearning music. Everyone hearkens back to the "churchy" sounds that remind them of, well, church. Chanted Psalms, or at least chant-like. Palestrina. Victoria. Byrd. Purcell. Bruckner. Bach. And -- one of my favorites -- Allegri's famous treatment of Psalm 51 (here's a zip file of yours truly singing the highest part of the "Miserere" several, uh, years ago). I also like some new music for the organ-free Triduum, especially this treatment of the "The Reproaches."

In many ways, Lent is a 40-day feast for my ears.When parishes reserve chant and Bach, etc. for Lent, it always makes me grin like a Cheshire cat. It's no penance for me to have such music. At my previous parish, we always switched to chanting the Kyrie  and the Agnus Dei . . I never wanted Lent to end!

Lent is arduous for me when there is little to no recognition of its uniqueness -- when the music is the same old, same old stuff from "Breaking Bread" and other recyclable Missallettes, played the same way. If I had to endure this version of "We Remember" every day of Lent, that might be a proper Cross-- and I'd probably lose weight, too. Instead of giving up Facebook, maybe I should give up the St. Matthew Passion. The thought makes me shudder enough that I probably ought to consider it.

HAPPY LENT, Y'all!

"Chicago" for kids?

I recently attended a high school performance of the musical Chicago. I don't know what percentage of Broadway musicals trickle down to community theater and high school performances, but I'm guessing it's a high number. The prospect of greater royalties is just too tempting. And so we have Chicago for kids. I'm conflicted. No matter how good the performance, I'm uncomfortable with teenagers doing a show like Chicago, that traffics so heavily in the sexual and especially the cynical. I know, we're in the age of hypersexualized youth, "it's the culture", "can't turn back the clock", Shakespeare isn't clean either. That might all be true, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to watch a (hopefully) virginal chorus girl flash her bike-short-covered crotch right at her dad holding the video camera in the fourth row. I grimace when a Roxie without a driver's license tells me how bad her husband is in bed. I bite my thumb when the six merry murderesses crow over killing their men, when the only thing they've ever killed is time in study hall. I like the reassurance of knowing Velma's husky voice is the result of steadily diminishing, perimenopausal female hormones, not too many runthroughs of "All That Jazz".

My queasiness aside, this Chicago had many good points. The directing and staging was excellent, and the pacing was superb. The acting, in big and small roles, was well prepared and well executed. The pit band, which was placed onstage, was a fanatastic group of pros and semi-pros. I love the music of Chicago and it was a thrill to hear it played live.

The dancing was well-organized and the chorus was lively and engaging, but I think it's an almost hopeless task to choreograph Chicago. Bob Fosse's choreography is extremely controlled -- a turn of the ankle, a soft bump of the hip, a splayed jazz hand, a slow split of the legs. These tightly edited details keep the dancing from falling into bad burlesque. Most time-strapped choreographers lift a few identifiable Fosse steps, then add in some eight count struts, a whole lot of crotch flashing and leg crossing, and inexplicable stand-up writhing. It ends up looking like a mix of Madonna and marching band. Examples are all over YouTube. I don't know if it's possible to teach subtle sensuality instead of sashays, but I would dearly love to see more choreographers try.

Singing Chicago as a teenager is like running a marathon after walking around the neighborhood a few times. A couple of songs seemed to have been transposed slightly higher, but the overall low vocal range of Chicago makes it extremely difficult for young singers. Neophyte belters tend to just haul up the heavier chest voice, pushing it through a tight throat and soft abdominals, in an effort to sound more dramatic and full. In fact, it just sounds really loud. Slower passages are often sung in a very breathy head voice, equating "slow" with "soft." This is baby belting, and it can lead to vocal damage. But, it's avoidable (or correctable) with the right instruction. True belting is an ever-changing mix of head voice and chest voice, with very solid abdominal support and a very free throat. It can be learned and practiced, even from a young age. I teach it in my studio, and I practice it myself.

The sole non-belt female role in Chicago is Mary Sunshine, the ever-optimistic reporter. Her operetta-style singing is played for laughs (and often by a male singing falsetto), but it got me thinking. If a school is ambitious enough to program Chicago, why not program an opera? Not La Boheme, of course, but why not Bastien und Bastienne or another early opera? Early operas are loaded with female parts and choruses in a healthy vocal range. There are loads of English translations. The dancing is based on the Minuet and crotches stay covered. The music is in the public domain. It's a thought.

Hats off to all who were involved with Chicago. Overall, I had a great time. The (very talented) Roxie was one of my former students, and it was a treat to see her and her family. I can't wait to see what she does next.

(Dear theater teachers: The next time you want to mount an ambitious show about a sexy, criminal-minded woman with man trouble -- and a low voice, may I recommend this?)

Ornamenting and "oversouling"

My True Love brought an article to my attention, laughing as he clicked "forward." It was a reaction to Christina Aguilera's unfortunate Lyrical Malfunction at the Super Bowl (poor girl) while singing the National Anthem, but it was also about pop singers' tendency to "oversoul" the melody -- the singer adds quick lines of decorative notes and musical frills between the actual melodic notes, overdoing it to the point the melody is an afterthought. Exhibit A: Mariah Carey oversouling Hero. (Also note Mariah's fluttering right hand -- it oversouls right along with her.) Exhibit B: This completely desecrated version of a famous Christmas song.

In classical music we have vocal decorations known as ornaments. In the Baroque era especially, singers would add embellishments all over the melodies. Even now, coloraturas like me are expected to tastefully ornament our most famous repertoire. First composed on the spot by the singer, the most successful embellishements were written down and are now considered standard.

Classical ornaments tend to happen after a melody has been introduced "plain." They highlight the fact that the melody is on its second hearing. Ornaments tend to be used at the very highest point of a phrase or to end musical idea and launch into another one -- they are not scattered in the middle and they are usually very clearly stated. Classical singers try, but they can't over-ornament much because conductors and pianists can instantly stop them with the crash of a chord. Classical singers can be guilty of choosing the wrong ornaments (or just executing good ones badly), but because so much of the repertoire is standard, the ornaments are part of the vocal furniture now and are practiced carefully, and rarely moved. I've composed a few ornaments for myself, borrowing a bit from this singer and that score, but I'm careful to remember melody first.

Ornaments are for tasteful classical singing, oversouling is the sin of pop divas, but the technical term for all singer-driven note addition is melisma. Melisma has been around as long as there has been singing. (Show me a singer and I'll show you someone willing to mess around with a melody.) But, it isn't always the right thing to do, unless you know when to stop. When my voice students ask if they can do it. I usually say no, at least not while I'm watching. Good melisma can be an indicator of a nice healthy, flexible larynx as well a nice, healthy ego. Bad melisma reveals breaks in the voice caused by laryngeal tension. For examples of bad melisma and criminal oversouling, watch American Idol, Seasons One through Twenty.

Melisma is heard clearly in chants of the Catholic church. A Kyrie ("Lord Have Mercy, Christ Have Mercy, Lord Have Mercy") can contain just a few notes -- or thirty five. They start out with the same couple of notes, but they're quite different after that. I like both versions heard here (there are hundreds more). Sadly, very few Catholic congregations sing either one, those that do restrict it to Lent. (I don't find singing chant during Lent to be penitential at all -- it's like Christmas to me!) It's been my experience that parishioners are attracted to melisma as listeners -- it sounds very showy and emotional -- but they don't dare try to sing it in a group setting. Only the monks and choristers are willing to give it a shot. As a chorister, I would be happy to be the Melisma Representative for any parish that would want one. Too bad so few do.

Here is another Kyrie in English by Marty Haugen, composer of the very well known setting, Mass Of Creation. Note how few notes are used in the melody, and how every word gets a note. I'm not a Marty fan and this Mass setting is sickeningly ubiquitous, but I recognize that he composed something that is singable for the average melisma-phobe. (Oversoulers, feel free to muck up Haugen as much as possible.)

The worst oversouling I ever heard was committed by a high schooler singing Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls. He oversouled "I'll Know," and the audience was instantly transported from 1950s Gotham to an Usher concert. Thankfully and incredibly, Broadway remains mostly free of oversoul. Hope it stays that way, but I'm not placing bets.

H/T Huffington Post