The musings of a middle-aged (Middle of what?! How many 122 year-old men do you know?) father, husband, teacher, actor, singer, storyteller and poet who has deeply held beliefs on politics, ethics, and love and who is awfully wishy-washy on other stuff.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sunday Concert: The More I See You
The sheet music for "The More I See You" is one from the stack of pieces, some going back to the late 1800s, that we found in this old house when we bought it. The song is a jazz standard. Check iTunes and you will find it recorded by scores of artists from Ella and Duke to Carly Simon and Bobby Darin. When I took the stack over to Angela Flanagan McRee, she picked this one out as one of her favorites for me to work on. So here's Terrell Shaw's version (with Angela on the keyboard.)
My mother and two of my sisters, Joan and Debi, rode with me to Douglasville today to visit with our cousin Don who is in the midst of a fight against complications from cancer surgery. It was a beautiful day for a ride. (Click here to read other posts about Don.)
Don, during the WSB years.
We made a pitstop at the KFC just off I-20 where I noticed this clump of misletoe in the small tree planted by the parking lot. Have you ever seen such a lush growth of this hemiparasite?
Don and Claudia live at the end of Mockingbird Lane on a gorgeous lakefront lot. They have done wonderful things with their home including a beautiful new kitchen and a sunroom overlooking the long wooded lawn that slopes down to the small lake. Don was very lucid, pain-free he said, and in good spirits.
His illness has robbed him of the magnificent radio voice that he used so ably with his fine intellect as a newsman for WSB Radio in Atlanta, NBC Radio in Cleveland, and finally with CNN Radio, back in Atlanta. But his hoarse whisper still had the life and humor of the Don we all admire and love. Don's friendship with Louis Brown reaches back into the fifties. It was a privilege to be there when Louis and his wife, Beth, came by and to hear the two songwriters, Louis and Don reminisce. Both have had songs recorded by well-known singers. Don's "It Will Come to Pass" was recorded by Willie Nelson and by the Anita Kerr Singers. I don't think Don will mind my posting his lyrics, they are available elsewhere online.
The turning earth will raise its wand and bring the seasons to their fruitful end ... and little men and trains will crash and snake their way around the timeless bend ... and rivers, too, will course their way to find the hungry Mother Sea at last .. and love will grow, it will come to pass...
The sun will blaze its scorching path across the sky a million times or more ... and men with charts will scan the skies in quest of life on some forgotten shore ... and in the quiet womb the sleeping seed will stretch its arms and grow at last ...and love will grow, it will come to pass... (chorus/bridge) It will come to pass....
Though men and minds and times will change still pinioned there by fears of growing old ...though scalpeled hands will plumb the deepest corners none will find the soul... yet bearded men in sandwich boards will tell the sinful streets, "He's Come At Last" .. and love will grow, it will come to pass...
words & music by Don Baird (donbaird7@aol.com)Sony/Tree publishing...
(From Willie Nelson "My Own Peculiar Way" and other albums... and Anita Kerr Singers "Best of Country"Album abc/dot)
After an hour's visit Mother led us in an eloquent prayer and we headed home.
Along the way back to Rome, Joan suggested we stop at the Coots Lake Trail Head on the Silver Comet Trail and take a short walk. The Silver Comet Trail is a Rails-to-Trails project that follows an old railroad bed from Atlanta to Rockmart. It is very popular for hikers, runners, bikers, and horseback riders. The area at Coots Lake is a lovely wooded walk. I hope Sheila and I can get back to bike it one of these days. Here are some pics.
Sunday Concert: Are you more amazed at how things change
Are you more amazed at how things changeOr how they stay the same?
75 Septembers Words and music by Cheryl Wheeler
In the year of the yellow cab Shadow of the great world war The third kid grandmom had Came into this world On a rolling farm in Maryland When Wilson was the president As summer blew her goodbye through the trees
A child of changing times Growing up between the wars Fords rolled off the lines And bars all closed their doors and I imagine you back then With snap brim hat and farmer’s tan Where horses drew their wagons through the fields
Now the fields are all four lanes and the moon’s not just a name Are you more amazed at how things change Or how they stay the same And do you sit here on this porch and wonder How the time flies by Or does it seem to barely creep along With 75 Septembers come and gone
Were the fields all gold and fawn Was the spring house dark and cool Did the rooster crow at dawn When they got you up for school And would you tell me once again The tales of granddad’s hired men And how they drove the old dirt road to town
Cause now the fields are all four lanes And the moon’s not just a name Are you more amazed at how things change Or how they stay the same And do you sit here on this porch and wonder How the times flies by Or does it seem to barely creep along With 75 Septembers come and gone
In the year of the yellow cab Shadow of the great world war
I love this song. I have always sung it, and heard it sung, in black dialect. Trisha Yearwood manages to sing this beautiful little song, simply and sincerely, and without pretention, in her own language. I may try it that way -- although I just finished, last Monday, recording it in dialect.
I love it as a simple song of faith and empathy sung, as I imagined it, by a black slave. Several times I have sung it at the Christmas Eve service at our church. As an actor, I have wanted to sing it as the character imagined by the composer. When I sing Charlie Anderson's songs in Shenandoah, I sing them in a more pronounced Southern accent than my own. When I sing Tevye's songs from Fiddler I use an accent based on Topol's in the movie version. Topol is Iraeli. And I put on an Irish brogue for "Danny Boy". I have thought it might seem fake and stilted to sing SLJB without the dialect. I have to admit though, I have felt a little uncomfortable, as a white person, singing it in dialect. Some might not understand my respect for the pain and reverence of that enslaved worker and interpret it as paternalistic or even mocking.
You may remember that, Jamie Barton,, our Armuchee girl, made it bigtime in opera this year. She was one of six Grand Prize winners in the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions this year. If you are curious to know what she sounds like, check out her new website. She has posted several recordings.
We were big Gail Davies fans, way back when. Hadn't thought of her for a while. Here's one from an album we used to listen to often in LP days. In 1981 Sheila's grandmother -- we called her Granny -- died at 97. Bright and cheerful and practical to the end. She had bad eyes and weak knees but was sharp as a tack mentally. I think it was about the time of her death that this song became a favorite of ours. We named our eldest partly for Granny.
So enjoy a little nostalgia this Sunday in memory of Annie Belle Brannon Snell.
How about a little college choral music this Sunday. Last week Sheila and I attended the annual Feast of Caroles performed by Shorter College choral students. The college Chorus under the direction of Matthew Hoch; their guests, the Ridgeland High School Chorus directed by Anthoney Goss; Shorter's wonderful a cappella men's group, Something Else; and the creme de la creme, The Shorter Chorale under Martha Shaw presented a wonderful assortment of sacred and secular Christmas music. We bought copies of the Chorale's CD for ourselves and my mother. It includes a solo by Shorter's alumna and Metropolitan Opera Grand Prize winner Jamie Barton.
Anyway, that put me in a mood for some choral music. It's not Shorter College, but here's a little something I happened on at YouTube. YouTube doesn't give much information. I think it is a convention of college level barbarshop quartets.
The Wheels of a Dream from Ragtime The Musical by Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty
sung by Bryn Terfel and Renee Fleming
I was looking for a military chorus version of the Marine Hymn in honor of Veteran's Day and my daddy the Marine. Somehow I came across this wonderful song instead. Arhens and Flaherty are two of my favorite composers and this is a favorite song of mine. Maybe the dreams and ambitions this couple have for their son describe pretty clearly the dreams of Marines like my father, who gave or risked their lives for this land. It's not exactly a patriotic hymn, but maybe it will remind us of the love of fathers and mothers for daughters and sons. And maybe we can rededicate ourselves to the dream of an America where... "... hope Will always gleam! With the promise of happiness And ... freedom ..."
Enjoy.
[COALHOUSE] I see his face. I hear his heartbeat. I look in those eyes. How wise they seem. Well, when he is old enough I will show him America And he will ride on the wheels of a dream.
[COALHOUSE] We'll go down South
[SARAH] Go down South,
[COALHOUSE] And see your people
[SARAH] See my folks.
[COALHOUSE] Won't they take to him
[SARAH] They'll take to him
[COALHOUSE] Like cats to cream!
[SARAH] Mmm...
[COALHOUSE] Then we'll travel on from there.
[SARAH] California or who knows where!
[BOTH] And we will ride On the wheels of a dream.
[COALHOUSE] Yes, the wheels are turning for us, girl. And the times are starting to roll. Any man can get where he wants to If he's got some fire in his soul. We'll see justice, Sarah, And plenty of men Who will stand up And give us our due. Oh, Sarah, it's more that promises. Sarah, it must be true. A country that let's a man like me Own a car, raise a child, build a life with you...
[COALHOUSE] With you...
[SARAH] With you...
[BOTH] Beyond that road, Beyond this lifetime That car full of hope Will always gleam! With the promise of happiness And the freedom he'll live to know. He'll travel with head held high, Just as far as his heart can go And he will ride- Our son will ride- On the wheels of a dream.
I wanted to find Ethel Waters singing this song, and I was surprised that You-tube had no clip of the Old Lady of Jazz singing this beautiful standard of the Billy Graham revivals. But Mahalia Jackson's rendition popped up. It'll do. Perhaps as a memorial to Ruth Bell Graham, who died this week. Ruth Graham visited her brother's church here in Rome (First Presbyterian) and was interviewed by Sheila for the Rome News back in the early seventies.
Enjoy.
UPDATE: Well, look what has been puit up on YouTube just a few days after I found Mahalia's version:
Perhaps the most beautiful aria ever written, sung by Domingo, Carreras, and Pavarotti ...
Lyn wondered at the meaning of the words. Nessun Dorma is an aria from Puccini's last (and unfinished) opera, "Turandot". If I understand correctly it has, like much of opera, a ridiculous plot. Basically the prince wants the love of the princess but must hide his name from her until dawn - if he succeeds he wins her hand: if he fails he dies. Sort of an even more cruel version of Rumplestiltskin.
Il Principe: Nessun dorma!... Nessun dorma!... Tu pure, o Principessa, nella tua fredda stanza guardi le stelle che tremano d'amore e di speranza! Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me, il nome mio nessun saprà! No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò, quando la luce splenderà! Ed il mio bacio scoglierà il silenzio che ti fa mia!
Coro donne: Il nome suo nessun saprà... E noi dovrem ahimè, morir, morir!...
Il Principe: Dilegua, o notte! tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle! All'alba vincerò! Vincerò! Vincerò!
And here's the English translation.
The Prince: No one sleeps!... No one sleeps!... *) Nor do you, o princess in your cold room Look the stars that tremble with love and hope! But my mystery it is locked in me, my name no one will know! No, no, only on your mouth I will reveal it, when dawn's light will shine! My kiss will break the silence and make you mine!
Female choir: His name no one will know... And we shall have, alas, to die, to die...!
The Prince: Disperse, o night! Set, you stars! Set, you stars! With the dawn I will win! I'll win! I'll win! ------ Previous Sunday Concerts: Amazing Grace
Malvina Reynolds wrote a song almost every day. Often a word or two from the newspaper would inspire her. This little song took flight with the manned space missions of the 1960s. It is another selection from the first reader I taught from in 1969. I was shocked to find a song I knew in the reader. It's a good one to use during the Space unit each year. Pete Seeger wrote the music and popularized it.
From Way Up Here
From way up here the earth looks very small, It's just a little ball of rock and sea and sand, No bigger than my hand.
From way up here the earth looks very small, They shouldn't fight at all Down there, upon that little sphere.
Their time is short, a life is just a day, You'd think they'd find a way. You'd think they'd get along And fill their sunlit days with song.
From way up here the earth looks very small, It's just a little ball, So small, so beautiful and clear.
Their time is short, a life is just a day, Must be a better way, To use the time that runs Among the distant suns.
From way up here the earth is very small, It's just a little ball, So small, so beautiful and dear.
by Malvina Reynolds
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The series of posts, A Poem to Start the Week, is my little anthology of poetry, many of which I have used with my students in elementary schools during 27 years of teaching.
