Wish You Were Here

Music has the ability to help me remember things or recall memories, feelings, sensory images. It gets in my soul and by simply listening to a piece of music I can be transformed, greatly affected. I have a very eclectic taste in music and whatever the genre may be I instantly connect to the artist as their commentary plays out melodically to my ears. Whereas every piece of music triggers a thought there are specific works that I have heard over the course of my life that have become very important to me. So much so that by merely hearing them they can take me to a new emotional state. One such song is Wish You Were Here by Incubus.
In my junior year in college I was in the middle of rehearsals for King Henry the IV part I. I was driving to an early morning class after having been up very late rehearsing. I was half asleep almost on auto pilot and the song Wish You Were Here began to play on my car’s CD player.
I received a call on my cell phone that my Grandfather was in the hospital in critical condition from pneumonia. It was very unexpected. I raced there to be by his side like he had for me so many times before. He passed away three days later. Amidst all my grief I still had thousands of lines of iambic pentameter to memorize. At that moment that song became something so much more to me than a Top 40 hit. It became a tribute to my relationship with my Grandfather. He never knew the song but it helped me to deal with my grief, and it inspired me to press on with my performance. When I graduated college, the first in that family to do so and something my Grandfather supported, I actually thought of that song. I knew that day when he left this world that he was a part of me and though I may wish that he “were here” in the physical sense that his memory would be with me always.

If you like alternative music I recommend the album "Morning View" by Incubus it is a great body of work.

Chopin and My Grandma

One of my daughters-in-law is ¾ Polish, which makes my adorable curly-headed 1-year-old granddaughter, Carlyn, 37.5% Polish. I think that’s pretty terrific since I’m more of just a “Heinz 57” myself ancestor-wise.

I have decided that I’m going to be the grandmother in charge of helping Carlyn explore music, so along with singing nursery rhymes and playing the piano with her (she sits on my lap and I play the melody holding her little index finger while playing the bass part myself), I thought she should be exposed to some of the great classical music from her own heritage. I wanted to find a recording of music by Chopin (the fine Polish composer) being played by a renowned Polish pianist for her. I looked for something recorded by Krystian Zimerman who has been featured on Friends’ series in the past, but couldn’t find something that would exactly work for listening to while she falls asleep at bedtime. But I did find a delightful CD of Artur Rubenstein playing Chopin Nocturnes.

Someday Carlyn’s going to be old enough that she and Grandma can enjoy the “What Makes It Great?” programs together, and then graduate to full concerts. And when we hear Chopin we can enjoy his Polish tie to Carlyn!

Green “Dei”

How Gregorian Chant helped inspire me to be more environmentally conscious.
I was in the gym the other day, an inconsistent feat for me as I battle the bulge, and I was going at my fastest RPM on the elliptical. Techno music was blaring on the loud speaker, weights were clanking around, so I turned up my iPod, louder than recommended, and as if communicated to me by God, the spirit, my ancestors, the circuits from Apple, whoever, I was graced by the beautiful, sometimes haunting sounds of the Versija Chamber Choir singing “Agnus Dei.” Everything around me simply faded away and I was taken to another place. The piece itself happens to be one of my favorite works because of the passion of the text, however I have developed a new appreciation for it because of the parallel that I was recently able to draw regarding the environment. In that recording you have many voices working together, coexisting if you will, to achieve something greater. To preserve beauty and to pay homage to a great creation, whomever they believed to have created it. In this particular interpretation the words Agnus Dei are constant and the higher voices continue to climb higher in pitch and the lower voices continue to descend creating this balance among the constant that is amazing. It takes such precision to achieve such an effect as a choir and vocalist and they accomplish it perfectly.
As unusual as it may sound, I was truly inspired by this moment to reconnect myself to the environment, and despite the origin that we may believe it to have, to honor this creation and work together for something greater.
If you haven’t experienced chant I highly recommend that you try it out. Currently, the #1 album in the classical section of iTunes is “Chant” by the Monks of Cistercian Abbey Stift Heiligenkruez and it is amazing, especially “In Paradisum.” Enjoy.

Finding Love in Music

About four years ago I met this interesting guy through a church group we were both involved in. I initially thought he was pretty good-looking but then immediately wrote him off as a person I wouldn’t be interested in because he was a “banker” and I thought he would be too boring for me. But, our paths kept crossing and we got to know each other a little more each time we met.

Finally, several months later, he called me up and asked me to go on our first date together. Now, at this point I was in my mid-twenties and had been on a few dates. I was very used to the normal first date scenario; pick me at 6pm, take me to dinner at a nice but not too nice restaurant, chat about life plans, hopes and dreams, quickly realize that we have nothing in common, sit painfully through a lame movie. Does that sound familiar to anyone? Well, this guy was different. He casually mentioned on the phone that he was planning to see a chamber music concert with the Summerfest Chamber Music Series at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in downtown Kansas City and was planning to go by himself. I offered to go with him. I couldn’t believe I just invited myself on a date!

On the evening of the concert he came to pick me up and was already more impressive than any other first date I’ve ever had. He was dressed up and looked sharp for the concert. We drove to this cool old-looking church in downtown KC and sat through one of the most beautiful chamber music concerts. The sound from the instruments resonated throughout the church and, for lack of better words, made me feel as though something magical were in the air. I looked over at my date and saw the smile across his face. I knew he was enjoying the concert as much as I. What a unique first date! After that evening I had a sneaking suspicion that this man was going to be my husband.

Sure enough, one year later he brought me back to another Summerfest concert at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church and proposed to me! We’ve been married for over two years now and go back to the chamber music concerts every summer to reminisce about how we first fell in love through listening to beautiful music together.

Have you ever taken a date to a chamber music concert? If not, you must try it. It is a unique experience that neither of you will forget!

I've Grown So Ugly

No, I’m not talking about myself. I was exploring the library of upcoming artists in the 2008-2009 season and while I was buzzing around iTunes I stumbled across an album from the Brentano String Quartet, the artists for our first show of the season. The album’s title is Mackey: String Theory. I decided to sample some of the tracks. I found the album itself to be quite amazing and original, but there was one track in particular that blew me away.
“I’ve Grown So Ugly”, track number 2, presented me with a sound that I totally did not expect. If someone were to ask me to imagine the sound of a string quartet I would think of very fluid, soft sounds as all four instruments blended together. The Brentano Quartet does this but not in a way that I expected at all. The piece almost sounded like a folk song from the Civil War with its plucks of strings and knocking sounds on the instruments. It is a very diverse piece that certainly shatters any preconceived notion as to what a string quartet will “sound like.” I admire artists who explore new inventions of themselves and their art while staying true to who they are and the art that they produce. In general, the Brentano Quartet seems to do this well.
Go to iTunes and check out the track and album. You’ll be surprised and amazed.

Opening Pandora's Box

Jeremy let me know about a wonderful website recently: http://www.pandora.com/. This internet radio service is officially titled “Pandora, Radio from the Music Genome Project.” I won’t try to explain the Music Genome Project, but, basically, this service takes one song or artist that you like and “matches” it to countless other songs that share similar characteristics. I think there are close to 400 different attributes that can be used to describe a song or artist – pretty incredible! It’s a great way to discover new music – or, at least music new to you. If you like a song enough to buy it, you can do so directly from the site using iTunes or Amazon; the only catch is that you can’t play songs “on demand” (i.e., just like the radio).

While playing around on Pandora the other day, I typed in “Francis Poulenc,” one of my favorite composers. My ears were greeted with several Poulenc tunes, along with some Milhaud, Faure, and Debussy. A little later on, as I kept listening, the “Poulenc station” veered into slightly different territory, and started playing some Stravinsky and Brahms, along with other composers I wasn’t familiar with. Enjoying this musical journey, I kept on listening and working simultaneously. One track made me stop working, though, so I could devote my full attention to my computer speakers – it was John Tavener’s “The Lamb” for a capella voices. The simple yet arresting harmonies grabbed my attention and didn’t let go for the whole three-odd minutes of the piece. I love the way the key and tonality is uncertain at the beginning of the song – is it major or minor? Or neither? I also like the text that this piece uses, William Blake’s “The Lamb” from Songs of Innocence and Experience. I first read this work in college, and it seems to re-appear in my life once or twice a year, a nice reminder of previous intellectual pursuits. Tavener’s “The Lamb” reminded me that great music can stop you in your tracks. As a result of this discovery, I now have a “Tavener station” on my Pandora account.

I don’t think one would immediately associate Poulenc with Tavener; however, now that I’ve listened to them within the same aural context, I do notice their similar penchant for using dissonance in ways that are not jarring, but rather pleasing and, at times, quite fascinating.

If you want to open yourself up to new musical adventures, try Pandora – you won’t be disappointed!