Over the years a lot of spectacular musicians have played in our humble loungeroom. Brilliant jazz and classical pianists, spectacular vocalists of all kinds, the odd radio announcer. It seems a shame that so much of it has come and gone with virtually no record.
In the spirit of changing that, and of just publishing ourselves a bit more, Jodie and I are tentatively planning to put up at least one recording a week from the O’Regan loungeroom.
This first one is us singing a canon from a book of Classical Canons, a little yellow Hungarian book for hardcore Kodaly ninjas. Jodie’s practising this for an exam in her Masters level advanced super hardcore Kodaly ninja aural pedagogy course this semester, and she roped me in tonight to help out. There’s over an hour of painful process preceeding this of which you have been mercifully spared.
I’m particularly proud of the artistic video framing (oops). Oh, and this was filmed on a Flip Ultra, not known for its audio abilities, but I think it’s done quite an adequate job.
In other news this week, I spent a large part of Tuesday largely convinced that I was Guy Smiley from Sesame street. Since I got new glasses, my internal model of my body has been upset by my body model seeming too tall (I guess the glasses make me seem smaller and shorter). I’ve had weird sensations that either my feet are through the ground, like a bug in a 3D shooter, or that I’m suddenly a dwarf, replete with far too short arms and legs. But Guy Smiley is new. I felt as though I moved like a muppet, that my head was tipping back when I talked, my arms were waving around, and that I actually sounded like Guy. Very vivid. Distracting, and possibly psychotic, but it seemed benign enough. I’m interested to see what happens next. Possibly I should get new glasses, but that’s seems unadventurous somehow.
And also I was a Rube Goldberg version of myself today, mentally, for a while, which was quite distracting and irritating. Obtuse! Sometimes you just want to think in a straight line, and instead this transitive Rube Goldberg mental fractal. Ridiculous.
Too often, vocal groups (especially a capella groups) and choirs equate blending with an extremely straight, light tone. That can be lovely, but it’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to ways to blend. To blend you need to be in tune, you need matching vowels, you need to use the same vocal placement (forward? Back room? Head? Nasal? Some combination?). Above all, you need to listen to your collegues and try to match their sound; sing with the voice of the group.
Here are some examples of great blend, wildly different, all excellent.
To start, a group who are emblematic of the straight tone in classical ensemble, the Tallis Scholars. But even they include a lot of colour and variation. Here they are singing Allegri’s Misere, famous not only for its beauty, but for the fact that it was kept for the church in Rome, and no one was allowed to transcribe it. This ban was only lifted after 14 year old Mozart visited the Sistine Chapel, heard it, and later that day wrote it down in its entirety.
Il Divo – Adagio
A huge vibrato sound, and quite different vocal qualities, yet they blend amazingly well. Admittedly this recording has seen a long spell in the studio, and yet, still great. Somehow they remind me of glam rock. Oh, and massive bonus points for fireworks at the truck driver’s gear change key change, brilliantly gaudy!
Here’s the Brockington Ensemble singing “It’s a me”. Full on gospel, extremely forward, front of face sound. Awesome blend.
Now a study in the vocal back room, here’s “Bogoroditse Dyevo”, from Rachmaninov’s Vespers. I’m not totally happy with this recording as an example, you could go a lot deeper and bassier and, well, damn it, more Russian. It’s lovely though.
Update: here’s a better one, sublime. These are Russians. Jodie notes that perhaps we are better to sing the music of our culture, there is a deep foundation which is missing when we sing other peoples’ music. I think that’s a little harsh, but it is true that the best examples of a piece of music are usually by cultural natives. Back to this piece, the highlights for me are the soloist (no youtube commenters, she isn’t out of tune, they’re just not using even tempered tuning), and the basses (!)
How about Crosby Stills & Nash, for some 60s/70s folk blending? A bit forward, but mostly fairly understated, not too much emphasis on production in any particular location:
I’ve been thinking about how you can manage to complete your own projects (stuff you set for yourself, not work projects), if you have very little attention span and/or like starting more than finishing. Like me! Also this works for anyone trying to do anything in their spare time outside of any combination of work/study/family.
Let’s take a cue from Mr Squiggle. He used to finish drawings all the time, even though he had the attention span of a flea. He should have been leaving half finished projects all over the place, but apparently not (in fact, he finished the projects of lazy Australian children!) How did he do it?
1: Miss Jane grabbed him by the foot when he tried to go on a spacewalk
2: His projects (drawings), while physically large, were tiny sized projects.
Now the Miss Jane approach can work, but we don’t always have Miss Jane available, or if we do, we don’t let her do her job. But tiny sized projects, that we can do.
Here’s my categorization of project sizes:
Tiny: from a couple of minutes up to four hours of dedicated attention.
Small: from four hours to 2 days of dedicated attention (ie: a full weekend)
Medium: More than 1 full weekend, up to 4 full weekends
Large: Anything bigger than Medium.
The way to achieve anything, Mr Squiggle style, is to attempt the smallest possible projects that you can. This will annoy perfectionists, but frankly we just don’t have that luxury.
Why the smallest projects? Because every time you put a project on pause, to continue later, you have put it on death row. Ask yourself how often you pick up projects like this after you drop them? I give mine maybe 50%. If you pause a project multiple times, well, the chances are pitiful.
Tiny projects are the best. No matter what your life circumstances, you will find once in a while that you have a chunk of Tiny project time available. If you manage to find time for one tiny project per week, you are miles ahead of where you could be. Awesome!
Small projects are more troublesome. It can be really hard to find an uninterrupted weekend. These can be good if you can get a day or two of leave, or an unexpected public holiday crops up. Don’t sacrifice these times to fixing the fence, grab them and do something cool (like making a flash game of someone fixing a fence!)
Sometimes your project wants to be small sized, it just wont fit into 4 hours. Then, if you can, break it into Tiny sized chunks (4 chunks works here). Why? Because there’s a trick; if you can finish an entire project (even a tiny one, which is one of several to achieve a small project goal), you’ll feel like you achieved something, and you’ll feel much more able to start a new project using the previous one as a building block, than you would have felt about picking up a paused project and continuing it. I think this is about motivation; finishing is a reward, not only in itself, but because it unshackles you. Every project is a set of shackles. Every completion is freedom. Every experience of the reward of freedom makes you want to come back for more.
(Tip: Remember to overplay your successes. Milk every possible psychological reward out of them. Why not?)
Breaking projects up isn’t a total get-out-of-jail-free card though. For a piece of a larger project to stand alone as a project of its own, it needs to be meaningful on its own, and it must stand on its own. Meaningful on its own means it must be useful in and of itself. You should be able to look at it or think about it and think “yes, I did that, rock”. Stands on its own means it shouldn’t require context; you shouldn’t need to keep notes on where you are up to. You should be able to describe what it is in a short sentence.
Medium projects are danger territory. 2 to 4 weekends, for a person with a busy schedule, is necessarily going to include big pauses between the weekends. The answer again is to break it up. I have an even better approach though, it’s like this:
1 – Break the medium project in small projects.
2 – Break the first small project into tiny projects if at all possible.
3 – *Throw away all the rest of the small projects*
Yes, that’s right, chuck ’em out. Forget you were ever going to do them. Don’t keep notes, or only the most scanty. The first small project should make sense on its own, as I said above, so that should be ok. Trust your future self to see the finished small project, see the same possibilities as you see now, and pick up with another small project to move things forward.
Large projects are the most problematic of all. The grand vision is so unlikely to go anywhere, and will demoralize you in the process, as you beat yourself up for your terrible lack of progress. The answer? Don’t try! Truly! Pick a smaller idea and run with that. Your future self will thank you.
What you can keep from a large project idea is the vision, maybe a sentence long, the high level idea you’d like to reach. That’s valuable. But keep it in your head, there’s no reason to write it down. If you can’t remember the vision, it was probably a crappy idea to begin with.
This approach means you can succeed, even though they are tiny successes. These successes, over time, will make you feel more confident in your ability to succeed in successive projects. Meanwhile, projects wont be a mental burden, they’ll be short and sweet and fun. Over the longer course, you can achieve large things from all these little pieces, in an incremental fashion, that leaves the future you the space to steer the course, and not be committed to what would otherwise be likely to be an increasingly inflexible and inappropriate plan as time wears on.
And of course, you can also afford to fail with tiny projects. So what, it’s only a few hours. That can roll of you like the proverbial water off the proverbial duck’s proverbial back (I assume in a proverbial rainstorm or some such). Being able to fail is essential to being able to try anything unsafe (which is most anything worthwhile).
Trust your future self! Keep it tiny! Keep it fun! Enjoy tiny successes, shrug off tiny failures.
Oh, and don’t watch the tv, it’s just a grumpy snail anyway 🙂
(ps: this blog post was a tiny project. I finished. How cool is that? Yeah)