Adventures of a Weary Church Mouse

Life is just very busy these days. I now work 30 hours per week at Principal Financial Group, carry out my varied duties of rehearsal and performance at church, care for a husband, a house and two entitled cats. I'm learning many new things, especially as I learn a completely new job role at Principal, and because of our move last summer, new opportunities are opening up. Nothing is dull!

Last weekend Bryant and I celebrated our first anniversary by taking a three-day weekend. Note to self--we really should go out of town next year, because it's too tempting to "work from home" and not make time for each other! It's hard enough to prioritize life's duties on a daily basis. Truth to tell, we're both overcommitted at this point, and something needs to change. I'm praying for wisdom on this one, because it's so hard to give up "opportunities." (Sometimes they're really temptations in disguise!)

For instance, I have wanted to polish my accompanying skills for some time, not having had much opportunity to do so. I was contacted by the Slinger Middle School teacher with a request to help her with students this month, so I was able to accompany a dozen kids in the competition. It was a great experience, and I'm sure I learned more than the kids did!

My good friend Audrey--another church mouse--has helped me out with a couple of vocal performance opportunities, and I'm very grateful. I'm hoping for a few more. But all of these things compete ruthlessly for my time, and I really must learn when to say "no." Up to this point, I've always reminded myself that opportunities come disguised as hard work, but now my priorities have to change somewhat. My marriage has to come before my career in any case!

I'm hoping some of my sage readers have helpful suggestions for me! What are the time challenges you have faced in balancing work and family life?

Performance Insight

I had an eye-opening (ear-opening?) experience yesterday. I was driving along, listening to the radio, when I heard the orchestral introduction to a Ron Hamilton song I knew well. The song itself has a lovely melody and is easy to sing, but as the song progressed I was struck with the way this man sang: robotically, with no feeling, no passion and obviously no comprehension of what he was singing. It was as if he did not like the melody and sang only syllables of text, unheeding of content. I did not know it was possible to sing any song that way. It’s possible to play notes that way if you’re not into the music—but to sing so insensitively, unfeelingly, is a feat in itself, because singing is such an intimate extension of one’s inner life compared to playing an instrument. I’m quite sure I’ve never heard anything like it. Absolutely robotic.

His vocal technique was low-to-average and he carried a tune well, but he did not produce any music. I do not know the name of this particular “artist,” and that is well.

Mary Jane and I have been discussing what it means to really get inside the music and portray the attitudes and the message the composer intended—so that your audience can experience the magic. It was most interesting to hear an extreme example of “what not to do.”

Are there any other musicians who have had a similar experience? Or perhaps you’ve just happily experienced something quite the opposite?

I Am in Need of Music

I just sang a beautiful setting of this poem by David Brunner over the weekend with a small choir; my brain continues to caress these lovely objects over and over.

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!

There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.

by Elizabeth Bishop

Kindred Spirits: Blog Alert

I stumbled across a great blog yesterday called Kirchenlieder (Church Songs). If you enjoy the content of Kirchenmusik (Church Music), you'll want to take a look. It's not as philosophical as Religious Affections, but the author (Lance Peeler) definitely shares my aesthetics. Speaking of Religious Affections, the latest post on the site really held my interest. Scott Aniol discusses two types of art distinguished by aethetists: Dionysian vs. Apollonarian art. To quote Mr. Aniol:

Both Dionysus and Apollo were mythological Greek gods associated with art. Apollo was the god of reason and logic, and was considered the god of music since the Greeks thought of good music as a great expression of order and patterns (a la Pythagorus and Plato). Dionysus, on the other hand, was the god of wine and revelry, and was worshiped with loud, raucous music accompanied by pipes and drums.

So Dionysian art/music communicates to the raw passions, while Apollonarian art communicates (ultimately) to the emotions through the intellect. He quotes from Daniel Reuning of Concordia, who points specifically to the music of Lutheran tradition as Apollonarian.

His intention in writing is to help the Christian distinguish between mere emotional experience and true worship, which addresses the whole person and not merely the emotions.

While I do not share or endorse Mr. Aniol's entire theology, I have learned a great deal from his writing and I do not hesitate to share this valuable resource.

Rushdoony on Writing Well

I Corinthians 10:31 "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."

"I detest the cute style of writing so popular today, New Yorkese I call it, because I believe words are tools to be used intelligently, respectfully, carefully, and lovingly. A good writer does not call attention to himself (as William Buckley endlessly does), but to his subject, and his writing opens up avenues of thought and insight...

Good writing gives me a sensuous sense of wealth and luxury; good writing is like combining the ultimate in nutritional value with a strictly gourmet dinner in a perfect and happy marriage."

~ R.J. Rushdoony, Letter to Otto Scott, April 28, 1977