The Music in My Head

A couple of days ago Facebook asked me what was on my mind, and I immediately typed my reply into my status:

If you hit the dust 

Let me raise you up

If your bubble busts

Let me raise you up

If your glitter rusts

Let me raise you up

And up!

Yes, right now the shiny new original Broadway cast recording of Kinky Boots is in my head, and I couldn't be happier to have it there.  

To remind you, in an example of sublime serendipity, Mr. Rip and I saw Kinky Boots in previews on Broadway this past March.  Well, we were smitten with it right away, and I predicted then that it was going to be a smash hit.

We preordered the original cast recording so that it would arrive at our home just the minute it was available.  Now I am happily singing the songs and the praises of composer-lyricist Cyndi Lauper, who won the Tony for her achievement.  I love every single song in the show, with a particular soft spot for The History of Wrong Guys which could have been the anthem of my youth.  Even when I am not listening to the CD, which I often am, I am hearing the songs in my head.  

It does not always work out so well, though.  Not all the good songs are catchy and not all the catchy songs are good. My mind is like Pandora on shuffle, but I don't get to pick the artists.

For instance, Kopit and Yeston's Phantom is a good musical full of very beautiful songs that serve the story and the characters particularly well.  A couple of them moved me to tears.   

So, why is it that I had no memory of those songs literally the millisecond I left the theater?  Did I just dream that I saw Phantom at the Pittsburgh CLO?  Because that's what happens when I dream.  No matter how vivid, or good or bad a dream of mine might be, moments after waking I couldn't begin to tell you what it was about.

Mind you, not all the catchy songs that stay in my head are welcome there.  

The day after I saw Phantom  I watched the documentary ANNIE: It's the Hard Knock Life - from Stage to Screen on PBS.  Now, let me assure you that I admire the musical Annie very much. Why else would I watch this documentary?  Yes it is as cute as can be and a true crowd pleaser just chock full of adorable precious songs that will drone on in my head for hours - sometimes even days or weeks.  Sometimes in desperation I change the words to amuse myself (I'll stop hearing this song...TOMORROW...).

So now It's a Hard Knock Life (no one cares for you a smidge, when you're in an orphanage) was stuck in my head.  Oh, how I yearned for any one of those beautiful but obviously forgettable Phantom songs to replace it!

Now if I could just get the 15th movement of Rachmaninoff's Vespers to stick in my head.  No one goes around humming a high quality classical tune like that.

March of the Rach-Monologues

It is almost never too late to accomplish new and challenging things.  I say “almost” because there are some activities whose ship sailed long ago for me.  For instance, I will never be a competitive figure skater.  I console myself with the fact that I really never could have been a competitive skater, no matter how early they strapped on those skates.   Heck, as a kid I couldn’t even make it around the Monroeville Mall Ice Skating Rink one time without falling.

However, March is turning out to be a month of interesting firsts for this ole’ girl.  How many times do you get to sing Russian liturgical music and talk about vaginas on stage in the same month?

First, I sang Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Vespers (All Night Vigil), Op. 37 with the Pittsburgh Concert Chorale.  What a majestic work!  A 15-movement a cappella choral piece written entirely in Russian!  What in the world was Rachmaninoff thinking?  Well, it all makes sense because it was a liturgical piece written for Orthodox religious services where the playing of instruments was strictly forbidden, and it was written in Russian because Rachmaninoff was, well, Russian.  So there you have it.

Anyway, when I heard we were going to be performing this piece for our classical concert, I felt good that our director had such faith in us.   The Pittsburgh Concert Chorale is a talented choral group, and we’ve mastered some very challenging music in the past.  With measured optimism, I actually purchased my copy of Vespers.  I figured it could take its place next to my coveted copy of Handel’s Messiah, which comes out annually around the holidays, whenever my husband and I jump at the chance to participate in whatever Sing-a-Long we can find.

 

Then we set about learning and rehearsing the piece which, at 15 movements, only seems like it lasts all night.  Good heavens, there was so much to think about.  There were the notes, the Russian (not my first language), the fact that we were singing without accompaniment to guide us, and then we were supposed to watch the director while we sang.

I like a vocal challenge as much as the next person, but there are limits.  Did our director overestimate us?  A lot of us were struggling.  There were extra rehearsals and sectionals, and lots of listening and practicing, and agonizing and wondering if we would ever, ever get it right.

When the day of the performance arrived, it all came together.  Singing the Vespers well in front of an audience was paramount to a religious experience, as is befitting a liturgical piece.  It was beautiful, and I cannot be more grateful to have been a part of this musical experience.

Next I’m off to perform a very different type of masterpiece.  On March 17^th, I am going to be participating in The Vagina Monologues, the Robert Morris University Colonial Theater V-Day production of Eve Ensler’s work gleaned from hundreds of interviews with women.  It is my privilege to be reading The Flood, a monologue by an older woman talking about her “down there” for the very first time.  It is at once funny and tragic, and all the more poignant because it is a real woman’s story.  I also get to speak the words of a transwoman, a nice departure from my usual roles of nuns and mothers.

In the meantime, Rachmaninoff has taken his place on the shelf in our music room.  My husband says we will be ready the next time someone schedules an impromptu Vespers sing-a-long, which I can’t imagine will happen outside of Russia. 

I don’t know when your next chance to hear Vespers will be, but if you live in the Pittsburgh area you can still enjoy The Vagina Monologues at Robert Morris University’s Massey Hall, on March 17^th at 8 p.m.  There is a suggested donation of $10, and all proceeds will benefit a local woman’s shelter.