Á Paris
My paternal grandmother, Miriam, who stayed as sharp as a missile until her last day, was born in Saloniki in Greece. Yet she was educated within a completely french system. Her first language was French and her entire life she revealed to us the magic of french art, poetry and literature and could be heard forever humming a tune while going about her life, sometime in French, sometime in Hebrew, sometimes Ladino, but always with a sort of french lilt to the hmmm-hmmm-hmmm.
Last summer I finally discovered Yael Naïm, a French-Israeli song writer that has become immensely popular, and writes some of the sweetest, most delicious chansons I’ve ever heard, and with so much ease, it hurts my teeth. One of my favorite is ‘Paris’, also riddled with it’s own hmmm-hmmm-ness.
A few weeks ago I went to Paris for the second time in my own life. The first time was when I was a child, with my father and sister, and my memories were full of the adventure you have with your father and sister, but not so much of what it actually felt like to be in that city…
This time the entire stay there was nothing short of enchantment. From the architecture and the food to the way the light hit the pavement after the rain, I found myself constantly being emotionally uplifted and filled with longing. I discovered hints of my dear, wonderful grandmother everywhere I turned, and Ms. Naïm’s tune simply refused to leave my mind:
Yes, it can be damn cold in Paris; but for me every drop of rain seems to whisper a promise, and each snowflake falls to the rhythm of a heart-beat.
I’ve done quite a bit of contemporary classical music in my career so far, and I sing nearly every piece from memory. I am often asked, “how do you do it?”
My answer is simply that I would be a horrible performer with music in front of my face. Some people can do that extraordinarily well – and I greatly admire them for it – but, for the most part, I need to internalize a score before I can relay it with expressivity, and for me that means that I really must first learn the music by heart.
I seem to have a kind of affinity in personalizing what is considered ‘difficult’ music. I regard this as a gift, I’m not quite sure what it is and wherefrom it comes, and I’m incredibly grateful for when it’s THERE (which isn’t always the case…). In connection to this, I wanted to write a little bit here about my process of learning and performing.
I don’t consider myself to be one of these prodigious, naturally super strong musicians. I don’t have perfect pitch, and I can’t sit at a piano and just figure a whole song out on the spot or blurt something out that makes wonderful sense. I’m so envious of musicians who can do that easily.
I can’t discern structural patterns or exact chord progressions upon listening to something in real time. My brain just isn’t big enough. So I’ve had to figure out my strengths and then work on them. A lot.
I have an agile and expressive voice. I do possess a good ear for melody, and rhythm, and good ear-voice connection for correct pitch. And I whole-heartedly adore, endlessly love, and have infinite passion for the expressive and communicative magic of music. Continue reading…
