A Word for the Word
When I was a Toastmaster, 20-some years ago, I gave this speech. At the time it was #4 in the Toastmaster manual: Gestures—Your Body Speaks. The research that prompts the exercise—words account for only 7 percent of a speaker's impact. Gestures, vocal clues communicate the rest, and true in every-day conversation; but has nothing to do with words: literature, poetry, screen plays, or speeches. And I present my case. If my club, Unity Toastmasters, Evanston, IL were not invited to speak for access TV, Naperville, IL—which was a fluke—I wouldn't have this. And by now, I may have forgotten it.
A Program of Old Italian Songs and Arias
Selve amiche, ombrose piante, by Antonio Caldara
The songs here are from a program of Old Italian songs, which I give at the Three Arts Club, Chicago, in 1989. Demonstrating Vocal Technique was no where in my mind, but you will see a face smooth, tension and effort free, and a breathing mechanism completely relaxed. Do observe my accompanist, Shirley Seguin. I've never worked with an artist as committed to the music as she.
The songs here are from a program of Old Italian songs, which I give at the Three Arts Club, Chicago, in 1989. Demonstrating Vocal Technique was no where in my mind, but you will see a face smooth, tension and effort free, and a breathing mechanism completely relaxed. Do observe my accompanist, Shirley Seguin. I've never worked with an artist as committed to the music as she.
In the first line of this song, there are three [o] vowels: "C[o]me raggi[o] di s[o]l," but none are pure, or academic, as demonstrated in video clips 2, 3, and 4. Here the academic [o] is not necessary and inappropriate, but for the first eighteen months with Mme Sharnova, I sang every [o] and every [u] vowel fully formed, no matter the language or the nuance in the word. Instinct told me; I didn't know why at the time. You may not see it, but the throat is round on the inside.
"Vergin tutto amore"--I wish I had the sense to do an audio check. My video people didn't. I wouldn't have made Ms Seguin the soloist, as good as she is. Yet, as I listen to her, and as much as this is inspired by and designed for the art of singing, I don't know if there is a pianist who will not notice she is extraordinary and be instructed by her touch. Pay attention to this woman.
"Cangia, cangia tue voglie" is my favorite song of the program and it's truly the music; it hits me early in the introduction, way before I start singing. Maybe it's what the intro leads to that gets me in the intro. Whatever, I like it, the tune, but it dictates what we call "bel canto." Whereas singers who don't sing too well can bello through "verismo" and Wagner, one cannot bello through "bel canto." One has to sing. The music dictates.
"Posate, dormite" is a beautiful song also, and fun to sing.
"Caro mio ben" -- the apotheosis of the Old Italian Songs and Arias. I think about the culture, the pace of life, the social milieu that gives rise to music such as this. I don't think we'll catch it at a Super Bowl half-time event.
"Lasciatemi morire!" -- One page of blood and guts.
It was Scarlatti who, in 1681, at the age of 22, opened the first school of singing in Naples and in conjunction with the Roman Schola Cantorum, and what we now call the Old Italian School. 5 major schools developed to include the cities of Bologna, Florence, and Venice.
"Intorno all'idol mio" is another tune lush with "bel canto" and fun to sing.
A singer doesn't know he can incorporate a composer, until he meets one he can't, and that's G.F. Handel. This fellow scatters me out.. Where he comes from and how he gets there is remarkable -- some kind of genius. This was the last number on the program, and I let it play-out to introduce the woman presenting us with flowers, my dear friend, Mrs Nell Foster Schaenen, language coordinator for Chicago's Lyric Opera Center for American Artists. Her husband, the Center's director, is Maestro Lee Schaenen.
I did one encore, and "May You Always" is my favorite. I left out "Per la gloria" by G.B. Bononcini, and Sento nel core, by A. Scarlatti, because I forgot how to get them off the vhs.