A busy schedule and a bad cold laid me low, and laid the
blog low as a result, but I’ve turned the corner, and the hiatus allowed me to
ponder the necessity of engaging the performer’s imagination in bringing music
to life. Music consists of symbols on a
page, worthless unless someone knows how to crack the code and reproduce the
sounds indicated. But even if you know
how to crack the code, is that enough? Is
simply reproducing the sounds all that is required to make a piece of music
come to life?
Well, partly, at least as a starting point, but I’ve seen
plenty of performances where the sounds were accurately reproduced but the
result was pretty boring. What was
lacking? The performer’s
imagination! If the performer’s
imagination isn’t engaged the performance can quickly degenerate into an
exercise in tedium. And never is a
singer’s imagination more needed than in La Guerre, one of the pieces
in our upcoming Imaginarium concert. It’s a dynamic sixteenth-century chanson that
celebrates the victory of French forces over the Swiss in the battle of
Marignon in 1515, and it is a tour de force of musical effects: booming
cannons, zinging bow strings, cries of alarm, trumpet calls, thudding hooves,
all characterized by the human voice. It
is also in Renaissance French, has no tempo or dynamics markings or
accompaniment, uses gobs of polyphony (imitation among the voices—not easy
stuff!), a number of emotionally charged meter changes, and is pretty lengthy, about
six to seven minutes long. Just to give
you a glimpse, here is a page from the beginning of part 2.
On this page the battle is about to start; the armies
send challenges to one another through drum rolls, blaring trumpets, and calls
to muster arms and spur the horses onward. But there are no instructions that come with
this piece. How do I convey this blur of
notes to my singers? How do we make a
500-year-old battle, draped in challenging musical guise, including
hard-to-decipher sound effects, grab the singer’s, and thus the audience’s,
imaginations?
The creative interaction between singers and conductor is
difficult to describe, but to begin, I get the music well into my inner “ear,” draw
on my knowledge of Renaissance musical practices, read up on the battle and the
composer, Clement Janequin, track down an accurate translation, match the translation
word-for-word with the French, and see what language and music together reveal. And, I shamelessly admit, I mine other
performances! There’s nothing like
listening to performances to excite pictures in my mind. And when the music
begins to live and breathe in my own mind, I find every possible opportunity to
enliven the mind’s eye of the singers, all while helping them over the myriad musical
and linguistic challenges so that artistic magic can happen. That’s the only way it can hope to have any
meaning for the audience.
Does it work? You’ll
have to catch a performance, either ours or anyone’s, to see. In the meantime, here’s an absolutely
riveting performance by the King’s Singers.
Does it fire your imagination?
Dr. Linda Gingrich
Artistic Director and Conductor
Master Chorus Eastside
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