I first sang in
a choir when I was 8 years old. You had to be 8 in order to
sing in the junior choir at church. I don't remember making a
decision to sing in the choir. I just took it for granted.
The
choir leader's name was Mrs. Hurlburt. She seemed to me to be
at least 100 years old. She had longish grey hair and when she
sang she made a sound a little like a fog horn, but none of that
mattered. I was excited to be singing in a choir. Through elementary
school I continued to sing with the long-suffering Mrs. Hurlburt. We
were kids: we got into mischief
In junior high
I took vocal music in a school that had highly regarded music
programs, both instrumental and vocal. Marilyn Perkins, the ‘real’
music vocal teacher didn’t teach the grade 7’s but we all knew
who she was and without breaking stride, she responded with a curt
nod and a hello, when we spoke to her in the halls.
In grade 8 I
switched churches so I could sing in Miss Perkins’ church choir as
well as in her school choir. My father, who was on the board of the
church I had attended since I was born, was none too pleased but he
didn’t stop me. As a result of the church switch I got to sing in
the senior choir Thursday nights and Sunday mornings. That meant I
was singing 5 days a week. The way the timetable worked at school we
didn’t get music every day. Days without music class dragged.
Of course there
were kids in the class who were way better than I was. A lot of them
played the piano, which never really interested me, and some of them
were adding singing lessons to their activities outside school. By
grade 9 these kids were trying out for and getting into The Young
Canadians, the group of singing dancing youth who took part in the
Calgary Stampede grand stand shows. The idea of auditioning for
anything scared the liver out of me and I knew I couldn’t dance so
Young Canadians were out. The idea of singing lessons did appeal to
me and I wanted Miss Perkins’ approval and attention. Many students were in awe of her.
My dad taught
high school math and my mum stayed home with me. They didn’t have a
lot of money and I thought singing lessons might be a hard sell so I
got resourceful. I lied to my parents saying that Miss Perkins suggested I take singing lessons. Miss Perkins didn’t do anything
of the kind but the lie worked and I studied voice for a number of years.
I got involved
with musicals in high school and then in the community. I was with
people who were interesting and who accepted me. I was hooked. My
bewildered dad borrowed money against his insurance policy to send me
to The Banff School of Fine Arts where I eased into stagecraft. After
I graduated from university with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Drama, I
went to work in the theatre department at Banff School of Fine Arts
and spent 3 years there.
The first year I didn’t sing in any choirs
and by the second year I missed it. I was used to Miss Perkins and
the way she did things. I borrowed money from my great aunt to buy
a car so I could come to Calgary Thursday after work, attend choir
practice, and drive back for work on Friday morning. After work on
Friday I drove to Calgary, stayed with my parents on Saturday,
sang in church Sunday morning and drove back to Banff Sunday
afternoon for work Monday morning.
When I left
Banff to return to university I continued to sing in the church
choir. I met my husband through the church choir and for many years we have
sung together there. I have friends in the choir whom I have
known since we were teens. We sang together as young adults, when
some married and started families, as their children moved
out and established homes of their own, and now as they entertain us with stories of their grandchildren’s exploits. Many
of us came to Scarboro because of Marilyn Perkins and, although she
died almost 15 years ago, her voice creeps into our heads with
instructions when we sing a piece we often rehearsed with her.
When I retired
from teaching I went back to taking voice lessons, this time with
Elaine Case, the daughter of my original voice teacher. I enjoy the
lessons and I realize that my true enjoyment comes from singing with
others.
At the end of
June this year our church choir joined with another and we travelled
to Ottawa to be part of a 600 voice Unisong choir that celebrated
Canada Day at the Shaw Centre and at the National Arts Centre. There
were choirs from Yukon, Nunavut, Labrador, Newfoundland, Nova Scotia,
Ontario, Manitoba, Alberta, British Columbia, and one choir from
North Carolina in the USA. Singing in a group that size is
incredible. On the one hand there are so many singers that if I make
a mistake no one is likely to notice. On the other hand if not enough
people get it right you end up with musical mush.
“Music of the
Land” by Kathleen Allen presented a particular challenge. It
required us to sing in English, French and Inuktitut and features
throat singers and Inuit drummers and dancers from Labrador and
Nunavut. I didn’t get all the French or the Inuktitut right but the
thrill of being part of that piece made every hair on my arms stand
up. Many of us choked up at points as we sang and then regained
control and sang even more fervently. It’s impossible to describe
the emotional high of being a Canadian singer, and making music with
others from all across the country. Unisong has posted this performance on YouTube so have a listen if you care to.
Singing has
given me so many gifts. It has given me companionship, laughter and
it has taken me to Saskatoon, Vernon, New York City, Ottawa and Powell River. It fills my head with song. I seldom listen to music because
If I’m awake, not concentrating too hard or
listening to an audio book, I’m singing in my head. Sometimes I
sing bits of songs over and over and sometimes I sing through
whole pieces. Often I hum or whistle. The music is there whether I’m
happy or sad and I have gotten myself through tough cycling days and
hikes by singing inside my head. Singing has comforted me when I have been afraid and when someone I have loved has died. I simply can’t imagine what my
life would be like if I did not sing.
I’ve cycled
through a number of other pursuits, each of which was foremost in my
life for a time. When I was training for long distance runs I used to
get irritated by people who asked me if I was a runner or a jogger.
My response was, “A runner is someone who runs no matter how
fast or how slowly. I’m a runner.” Similarly, a singer is one who sings regardless of how loudly or
softly, beautifully or scratchily. By that definition I owe a debt to
Mrs. Hurlburt and her foghorn voice. She may not have sung
beautifully but she sang enthusiastically and she made it possible for me to sing in
my first choir.
A couple of concerts ago One Accord, another choir to which I belong, sang “I Have Had Singing.” This is the
story of the piece taken from a program by Steven Sametz. http://stevensametz.com/composer/works/info/i-have-had-singing/
Program Notes
I Have Had Singing paraphrases lines taken from Ronald Blythe’s Akenfield, Portrait of an English Village. In the 1960’s, Blythe traveled to the north of England interviewing farmers, plowmen, blacksmiths — people whose stories dated back to the early 20th century. One subject, given the name Fred Mitchell in the book, was an 80-year old horseman who told his story of working a bleak, unfertile land in a life filled with little joy. In the midst of his story, he stopped and said, “But there was always singing; the boys in the field, the chapels were full of singing. I have had pleasure enough; I have had singing.”I Have Had Singing was written for the Berkshire Choral Festival, a summer amateur music festival. I Have Had Singing speaks to amateur and professional musicians alike about the simple love of singing and the lasting joy it can bring.
Text
The singing.There was so much singing then
And this was my pleasure, too.
We all sang, the boys in the field,
The chapels were full of singing.
Here I lie:
I have had pleasure enough;
I have had singing.
I can’t say that I have had pleasure enough because I hope there are many more years of singing pleasure ahead but I can wholeheartedly say along with Fred Mitchell, I have had singing and my life has been richer for it. It’s not expensive and it doesn’t take a lot of equipment. Although I don’t, I can sing anywhere. While there are things I love more there is nothing I have loved longer. Whatever else happens in my life from this point on I, too, can say I have had singing.
Have a listen to ‘I Have Had Singing.’
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71WS7sS2nDw
3 comments:
Hi Marian, What a lovely post! I enjoyed every minute of it and even learned a few things I did not know about your life. About four years ago, my husband Michael and I were on a road trip and he had brought along a bunch of old cassette tapes. One, of all things, was of you just chatting and telling me the news back around 1970! He listened carefully and then said "Wow. That Marian should be a writer. She has a load of talent in putting ideas together." He picked up on that talent right away. So, there we have it. He was right. Now, you are a blogger, and a very good one. Thanks!
Doreen
Thanks Doreen. What a wonderful story! I'm glad blogging has come into existence because it's a type of writing I really enjoy. I wrote poetry for a number of years and then went on to other things. I attend a writing retreat once a year and most people there write fiction so I've had a go at that as well but it's not what I love to do. Although I'm pretty sporadic with the blog I do like it and I'm always on the lookout for that spark of interest that might turn into a post. I hope all is well with you. Thanks so much for reading and for the comment.
I enjoyed this so much Marian.
I too have had singing. Pleasure enough indeed.
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