Thursday, September 30, 2010

a.m.

good morning,
beautiful children of the Universe,
dawning anew, each of us, this day,
may the petals of our hearts blossom fully and fragrantly,
may our lungs fill with the promise of this new day,
and empty with gratitude for the gifts that keep showing up on our doorstep,
unexpectedly, arriving just when we need them in the perfect size, shape and color,
may we continue to be amazed at the way we show up to our lives seemingly unprepared,
the Universe making its requests and we say '-- i can't -- i don't know how -- i've got nothing to offer--i'm not ready --',
and then in an instant, vulnerable, our hearts burst open and treasures come tumbling out, sparkling and gleaming,
dazzling the Universe, which then laughs joyously and knowingly,
bursting into technicolor radiance, extending its hand, inviting us to join the dancing and singing.......

Saturday, September 25, 2010

skype

longing for a chunk of time to connect with you,
to laugh with you,
to share with you,
to clear up the mystery of the missed texts with you,
to discuss concepts in the book that we're both reading,

i long to call you 'Baby',
to smile at you,
to stick my tongue out at you,
to carry you around the house talking to you as if you were here,
to conduct my cooking show live for an audience of one,

i long to sit with you in silence,
staring at the little green dot,
tears forming after hours of 'this and that' as the clock approaches my midnight and your midday,
caressing my keyboard,
touching your face on the screen,
defying the story that distance is the product of rate and time,
dreading the click - but one of us has to do it -
quick, do it now!,
'I love you, Ba---.'



Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Sweet Dreams

I noticed my arms rise up and I embraced myself as You.... so gently and sweetly in waves of caresses along my body and I breathed in deeply, a half smile forming on my face. I sit now with hand on my beating heart, eyes closed, sending you thousands of delicate little kisses that will slowly descend upon you in slumber, gently so as to not wake you, but upon waking, you will feel their caresses, continuously whispering their insistent message with each feathery kiss......

....you are loved.....you are loved....you are loved....you are loved....you are loved....you are loved....you are loved....you are loved.....you are loved....you are loved....

A jackal opens its mouth and before the word of resistance can be spoken, it is met with a kiss so delicate yet so passionate that its body yields, melting into bliss and with tears in its eyes, asks '...really?...truly?,,,,' and the kisses just keep coming in and he surrenders, laughing and says sheepishly 'okay...i am loved' and opens to the embrace, letting it sink in deeply and completely...

...i am loved...i am loved...i am loved....i am loved....i am loved...i am loved...i am loved....i am loved.....

may this be your mantra today, baby.....

Note: I feel excited about a handout by Doro Kiley, Professional Life Coach, that contains a definition of jackal versus giraffe language used in Nonviolent Communication (NVC) created by Marshall Rosenberg and referenced to above. Check it out:)




Friday, June 18, 2010

Smiling in Sante Fe



I woke up this morning and had no idea where I was. For a few seconds, I looked around in the semi-darkness and a few scenarios popped into my head jolting me around in space and time before I remembered I was in Sante Fe visiting friends I knew from my time in Moab, Utah.

Good friends. The kind of friends that no matter how long it's been since you've seen or spoken, there's no awkwardness and time takes on a funny quality as in 'Wow. How could you have done all that in the time since we last saw each other when it feels in this moment like it was just last week when Nat did that double pitch climb and Adam and co. hosted that 'roll your own sushi' party and then we were all laughing at that music festival when I bought a turkey leg and grease was dripping down my chin and one of y'all said 'Isn't this the girl who's about to go live on a vegetarian Buddhist lettuce farm?!?!?!?!?'




I sit here in amazement too because I had no idea Nat and Adam were back in the states. Last I heard, Nat was getting her Master's back in her homeland of Canada. When I arrived in Alburquerque a week and a half ago, I posted it on Facebook and Nat saw it and told me that they were in Sante Fe which is superclose to ABQ. I emailed back, thinking they were on vacation, saying I hope they are still there when I finish my training. It turns out that they live here and so after wrapping up in ABQ yesterday afternoon, headed up here and I feel so happy to reconnect with them.

I have felt quite disconnected from my friends and from community down in coastal Texas though it has been great to reconnect with my family. I went back last year thinking I would stay for a few weeks, maybe a few months to help my Mom rebuild her life after enduring Hurricane Ike and then head back west. I have chosen to stay to continue being helpful and to study music and will be going back for school in the fall.

This summer, though....this summer is a gift to myself of reconnecting with friends, with nature and with myself through songwriting and by continuing to explore how I can be helpful in the world. I'm driving and so I have flexibility to take advantage of opportunities that open up and to move at my own pace, receiving the gifts of the universe instead of rushing off to the next thing I have to do. I feel really grateful for that plan because I had originally booked my whole entire summer up with trainings and retreats with little time for friends or for myself. The new improved plan is a combination of both. And so, it is with much joy that I receive this unexpected gift of reconnecting with Nat and Adam. They are going out of town for the weekend and are gifting me the use of their studio where I plan to play with music and catch my breath from the intensity of the last few weeks (more later). Perfect, perfect, perfect.

About an hour ago, I had wanted to go for a run, move my body, breathe in the morning air and Nat told me about a trail that runs along the railroad track. I was supposed to take a left down this pedestrian alley a few houses down and then take a right and continue straight through some houses to the track. I became confused and couldn't find the track and thought maybe I would just jog around the neighborhood. I backtracked, tried to find the second alleyway again, wondering if anyone was home where I could knock on the door and ask and then I saw an older gentleman standing in his driveway. He was visiting too, but used to live here and pointed out the path to me. I gave him a hug and continued on. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

The alleyway popped out onto a paved track adjacent to the railroad bordered by plants and trees. I stretched, started the timer on my watch and took off, listening to the playlist on my Ipod I call 'Girlfriend'. It includes Alanis Morissette's '21 Things I Want in a Lover', 'Respect' by Pink, Indigo Girl's 'Closer to Fine', Lyle Lovett's 'Aint It Somethin', John Michael Montgomery's 'Life's A Dance' and India Arie's 'Private Party'. When the path came up to a road, I danced on the sidewalk until the way was clear and I smiled at everyone I came across: solo cyclists, cyclists with kids in those cute little carriers, joggers with cute little puppy dogs. I 'Hi-Five'd' the branches of trees reaching toward me.

As I prepared to turn around to head back, I suddenlty felt afraid as I realized I had not turned around and taken a look at where I had popped out from my friends' neighborhood onto this track. 'What if I run right past it?', I thought with a little bit of alarm. I strategized that I could run back for the same amount of time I had run to this point and I should be close. My experience is that usually it takes less time to get back than it did to get to the turnaround point so I was still feeling a bit concerned. I don't know this town well at all. And I kept running and smiling at people and then all of sudden, a woman popped out from the left ten feet in front of me. I stopped short in awe of the grace of the universe and had to manouever to not get run over by a family of bicycles. I tried to talk to the woman to express my amazement at her timing, but she just kept on walking oblivious to my experience or maybe aware that I looked a bit crazed in that moment.

Ain't it somethin' how the way things go? Perfect, perfect, perfect:)


Sunday, April 11, 2010

Bon matin, mon cherie!


I woke up in a luscious bed feeling fabulous still rendevous-ing avec moi in the hill country in springtime without feeling lack of any kind (see previous post Rendevous Romantique Pour Un). Birds were singing, the sun was hiding behind the clouds and it was cool and misty.

I walked downstairs and ate a croissant. Memories of croissant aux almondes in Paris. I loved Paris. So romantic. One of the reasons I picked this room was that it had a balcony off the bedroom with a table and chairs. I love to picnic and eat at cafes with outdoor seating.

I hadn't had a chance to check out the grounds yesterday so that was my morning plan.


I strapped on my guitar and wandered around to the strains of Opus 6, No. 1 by Fernando Sor and 14 Minietudes by J. Maurice Mourat. There were two greenhouses and this solarium with a water feature and koi.


There were numerous waterfalls and plants.

Only a very few mosquitoes out, not enough to dampen my spirit.

There's a saying that goes something like this: when you wake up in the morning alone with over half a bottle of champagne left over because the person you were going to share it with has just fallen in love with another, make a mimosa!

And so I did and had a lovely breakfast on my balcony serenaded by birds with the waterfalls gently murmuring 'you are loved, you are loved' in the background. I was really enjoying the lack of gadgetry. No roll out of bed and check facebook ritual this morning. No email or phone call to return. I was delightfully out of cell range. I was on the range. Home on the range.

I showered and then packed up singing, alternating between Amarilli, mia bella by Caccini and Danza, danza fancuilla gentile by Durante accompanied by my computer and speakers. I did have electricity here. I belted out the last melismatic phrase of Amarilli standing on the bumper of my truck and then swung in and headed to the main compound with the lake. Enchanted Lake.

They were preparing for a wedding. I moseyed over and found a table and chair and put my feet up. I shared some words with one of the workers and he generously offered to go find some oars so I could take a spin on the lake.


I accepted the offer and grabbed my guitar, rolled up my jeans and paddled out.

I proceeded to serenade the setup crew and a lone fisherman before heading back home. To home on the coastal plain.

Though not what I had originally envisioned, it was perfect just the same. I felt free. I had forgotten the magical feeling of being on the road, visiting new places, meeting new people - the feeling of anything-is-possible, of no rush, of everything falling into place just the way it is supposed to. I took a photograph in college once in Big Bend National Park of my feet in front of the desertscape and it was titled 'With, Not By,' meaning 'with myself, but not by myself.' It's a subtle difference, one where instead of empty, I feel full and present. Comfortable in my skin.

May we all feel fully embodied, full of love with nothing lacking and nothing needing to change. Big Texas-sized hugs to all y'all!!

Rendevous Romantique Pour Un

While I saute some garlic, and listen to Dido and Norah Jones, let me fill you in on my day… Nine and three quarter hours earlier…

I thought an oil change would be good since I’m 1500 miles overdue and heading toward the hill country after class. Going to see some bluebonnets and hang out with my guitar. Alone. Wasn’t planned that way. Bought a groupon for a romantic getaway complete with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries with my new sweetie in mind: poet and seeker, Michael, who I met on New Year’s Eve. Our new relationship has had some twists and turns and this was the second time I was planning the getaway. Thought it would work out this time. Yes, man plans and God laughs, as the saying goes. We found a time that would work for us both, I booked it, and then he fell head over heels for another with no time left for me to get a refund. The owner, Carol, suggested I invite a girlfriend, but I thought it might be good to just take my best friend, my guitar – the one I bought on layaway when I was nineteen – who’s seen me through a divorce and several post-divorce breakups.

I had a voice lesson at 2 pm so I practiced for an hour and then went to change the oil before school, but when I started the car, it sounded terrible. It’s been running rough for a few weeks now. I popped the hood and my battery was knocking into the engine. My car wouldn’t start last week so I took out the battery and had it checked out. Turns out it was still good, but I needed to clean the terminals and connections. I couldn’t get it to fit in again just right. It’s smaller than the original battery. So now I’ve got a couple of problems and I’m supposed to be going out of town so I don’t end up wasting my romantic reservation at Blisswood, the hill country B&B. Now, I don’t have time before class so I clunk my way over to school, have a fabulous lesson with April, my fabulous teacher, and head into town to find a mechanic.

I hadn’t found a local mechanic or oil change establishment yet. I moved here last July and had been going back to Galveston each time and was planning to do that today but now time was running short so I headed into my new town to see what I could find. I saw a Jiffy Lube and headed in. When a woman approached, I asked her if she knew of a family owned place because I hate chains and also something was wrong with my car. She was very helpful and steered me toward a local gas station that did oil changes and had real mechanics. I thanked her and headed over. The mechanic that greeted me reminded of my Dad. Dad had been a quiet, no nonsense military man, a ship’s mechanic. This gentleman, Bill, listened to my complaints and said, ‘Let’s start with the oil change and go from there.’ I felt in good hands.

I grabbed my guitar and my travel chair and commenced to practice my classical guitar pieces for class. I had recently attended a Master Guitar class with Philip Hii and was very motivated to practice when I could. Lots of people stopped by to chat. I was asked if I knew some Eagles covers, if I was trying to be Janis Joplin, a fellow Texan, and if I knew that Barry White had been from Galveston. Bill returned to tell me my alternator was on the fritz, but he could get me a new one within the half hour. ‘Let’s do it,’ I replied, only grimacing slightly at the $350 price tag. What could I do? More time to practice.

I called the proprietor of the B&B and informed her my car was in the shop and it’s possible I might not make it after all. I wasn’t all that stoked anyway to go solo to the Oasis, which is the part of the property my lodging would be in.

Before I knew it, the truck was purring like a kitten before me and I headed home to pack. I made a peanut sauce, packed some greens from a farmer friend and some garlic. Threw a change of clothes in a bag, hugged Mom and got on the road. 5:30 pm. I might just make it before dark.

I started off singing one of my tunes. Then I listened to Democracy Now with Amy Goodman. Then I turned on a party mix a friend of mine, Adam, gave me when I lived in the desert. It was rockin’ when I approached, fields of bluebonnets in view as the sun was setting.

After having a little trouble finding the right room, I entered Harriet’s House which is really just part of a house. The first thing I did was look around for the champagne and chocolates. They were nowhere to be found. Nor was the continental breakfast for tomorrow. Not only did I not have the romantic partner, I didn’t even have chocolate. This would have to be remedied. Without even bringing in my things, I headed back to town to find Carol. I was a bit upset.

Carol runs a fine dining establishment in the teeny town of Cat Spring. I walked in and a woman I assumed was Carol was on the phone. I looked around. It was a darling place. Rustic. Antlers and white linens. When she was finished with her phone call, I asked if she was Carol and then with difficulty I said there must be some misunderstanding because there wasn’t any chocolate or champagne and now I have to go into the bigger town…. She cut me off and said, ‘Oh, let me get some for you right now.’ ‘Okay,’ I said in mid-upsetedness and as she walked to the kitchen, I thought, ‘Okay, everything is going to be okay.’ She returned and told her I liked her place and I appreciated she served local wines. Then I touched her arm and told her I was sorry I was so upset, but the lack of chocolate reminded me of my lack of a boyfriend. She had forgotten the email I had sent. She then gave my teary self a hug and asked if I’d like a glass of wine. I accepted. 'You really loved him, huh?' she asked. 'Well, no,' I said. 'I mean I loved him, but, ya know how every breakup reminds you of all your other breakups?...like my divorce...' She nodded empathetically.

We spoke a little more and I told her I was turning the evening into a personal musical retreat. Then she remembered my mentioning it in the email and said I have to meet her friend. She steered me over to G. Marie who is a songwriter. I then happily chatted about music with her and her husband (?) and friend until Carol returned with a box with flowers protruding from it. I said goodbye to my new aquaintances. Carol followed me to the car with the box. I told her I hoped to stay up with my guitar ‘til three in the morning like I used to do when I lived in the desert. I put the box in the car and gave her a hug. ‘You’re wonderful,’ she said as we both laughed. As I drove away, I thought it had been perfect that the champagne and chocolate covered strawberries had been missing because otherwise I would not have met her and she’s a quite lovely woman. It was comforting to connect in my vulnerability instead of isolating which I usually do.

So now I’m in Harriet’s House, sauteeing some garlic, about to add some swiss chard and open the bottle of champagne. I must think of an appropriate toast…

…pop…I raise my glass to all beings and toast the beauty and grace that always surrounds us whether we can see it or not...

...I made it! It is 3:31 am. I didn’t do justice on the bottle of champagne – sorry my grape friends L – but I ate all the strawberries…

Dinner was wonderful. Texmati brown rice with Swiss chard with a peanut sauce. It’s one of the things I can throw together without a recipe. I used to not be able to do anything without a recipe. I started with a dollop of peanut butter, and added Bragg’s amino acids, some leftover Reisling (I usually use Shiner Bock but was out), some rooster sauce, a little bit of fish sauce, some sesame oil and a splash of lemon juice. I ran out of Bragg’s so it was thicker than usual and so I didn’t have to add any cornstarch/water mixture to the pan to thicken it. My grandma likes my peanut sauce, but my Mom is not too crazy about it.

‘Estoy contenta…’ is the thought I was left with. I enjoy cooking. It always makes me feel close to my Dad. He liked to cook. We were either watching sporting events or cooking shows growing up. I particularly remember a cajun chef: ‘Pour a little wine into the pan, drink a little wine…’ My exhusband is a chef and my

My appreciaton for food increased during our time together. As did my time eating formal orioki meals at San Francisco Zen Center. Cooking is something I can lose myself in, like my guitar. I enjoy cooking for others and for myself. I can putter around the kitchen for hours.

However, I immediately succombed to a food coma and crawled under the covers and took a nap.

Afterward, I hopped out, poured another glass of champagne and picked up my guitar.

I started just playing around with some arpeggiated simple chord progressions. Before I got my teaching license and would substitute junior high school, I used to hand out the worksheets and then just pick my guitar while the students worked. And then when everyone was finished, I’d play them a few songs by the Eagles, John Denver, the Indigo Girls or Traci Chapman.

Generally, how I write starts with a vocal melody popping into my head and then I will very painfully try to figure out what chords will best accompany the melody. It entails a lot of trial and error. Sometimes no chord I know sounds good so I might change the melody or set it aside. Sometimes I would forget the melody unless I recorded it quickly. Now that I am learning the piano, I have started to write down the actual notes of the melody which will help tremendously with the accompaniement. I can’t wait for the summer when I can go back over all my old songs and finish some ones I couldn’t before.

I am trying to learn to write more than just accompaniment to my melodies. Mr Kiefer, my guitar teacher, taught me a little about fills and hammer ons and pull offs at the beginning of the semester and now I’m learning some classical pieces. So I was playing around. I still feel like I don’t really know what I am doing but the only way I’ll learn is to get to know my guitar a little better. For years and years, the only thing I ever did was strum basic chords and one simple arpeggio pattern. I learned songs. I never just fooled around on the guitar like some people and it feels uncomfortable. But I stayed with it and discovered I could hammer on and pull off with whole chords, not just individual notes. I used a very simple rhythmic motive – long/short/short – and went back and forth between Em and Am. I couldn’t figure out anything else that sounded good with that, but it was way more rockin than my usual country folk sounding strumming.

I played around with a simple interval – a minor second - Lord knows I could use some ear training practice. I want to make up a song using all the simple intervals so I can finally dial in those pesky rascals – I’ve cried more than once in that class. Makes me feel like I’m brain damaged. It’s unlike anything I have tried to learn before.

Well, that was fun. Now, on to a song. Mr Keifer is allowing me to work on one of my songs to perform for jury. I’m going to fill in some boring parts with some some chord variations and he suggested some more vocal variety like I did with Brown Eyed Girl last semester. I had a lot of fun with it tonight. He had showed me an alternate way of doing my Bm chord – one with a bar and he showed me a Bsus and a B7. I have this one part where there are many bars of the same Bm with a sustained vocal note that I want to spice up. I played around with the new variations trying to find something that would work. It turned out totally cool. At first it sounded bad and didn’t even seem to go at all, but I kept trying and ended up just using the Bsus, but I also changed the strum pattern. This is the repeat of the chorus right after the bridge and the tension remains really high. The words are ‘We tried…….to hold on. We tried…….but only made it worse.’ And then, in the spirit of variation, realized I could spice up the C to and I added a Cadd9 and used the same new strum pattern. It’s a down/up/up.

This song is SO much better than the original, original version I wrote in 2006. I was telling Mr. Keifer that it used to be in the form of A A A A A A A …ad nauseum: the chords were the same for the chorus and the verse. The whole reason I went to the songwriting school last summer was to learn how to vary it and still make it sound good. I didn’t know how the different chords related to each other. I didn’t know anything about theory or chord progressions – I just found chords that matched the melody in my head which I’m sure is a subconscious cut and paste of the many pop and country songs I have heard in my life.

So now, at 4:30, I can go to sleep having spent some quality time with myself and my guitar. Tomorrow before I leave I am going to strap on my guitar and check out the lake and grounds and play and sing with the birds.

No thoughts of loss of Michael. I am really happy for him actually. He has fallen head over heels. Sypathetic joy is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I’m planning to go to his going away party next week and offer a song or two. She will be there and I look forward to meeting her. Only by the grace of God and meditation and lots of excellent teachers and role models could I be this open. It feels really good.

I subscribe to Alanis Morissette’s definition of love in her song ‘Nothing in Return.’ I love him and if she makes him happy then that’s what I want for him. I trust the universe to continue to hold me in its arms and love me til the day I die. And then keep on loving me. Life is like a cadenza. We do our beautiful solo and then blend back into the orchestral heavenly harmony. Amen.

(And I thought this weekend might suck! J )

Thursday, March 25, 2010

genkydeska

the dance continues with no place to stand

only a place to watch

we create each other

always

meeting ourself time and time again

and wondering why we are not perfect

what is wrong with you? we ask,

never noticing that our glasses are full of scratches and the prescription is thousands of years old

we judge others as if they are the doers,

we ask for what we think we want and when it comes we say 'what the fuck?'

'lie to me' is what we were really saying

'accept me!' we demand when we can't even do it ourselves.

what is truth, anyway?

what's not a story?

when can we go back to the time before words? before the apple?

what about now?

will we love each other now?

can we remember the divine essence from which we both sprung?

until we forget again.

funny thing, this life, and all its shoulds. planet should. inhabited by shoulders.

i'm dying. whoop, there i went. rest in peace, sweet innocent dreamer. you tried really hard. you did your best. your heart was in the right place. i'm sorry i didn't appreciate you more. didn't let you play more. i'm sorry i was so hard on you. i'm sorry i expected so much and gave you credit for so little. i'm sorry i never let you off the hamster wheel. i'm sorry i always asked more, more, more and was never satisfied. i'm sorry we spent so little time just being, enjoying the beauty of what was. i love you, baby. so much. i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it. go, be at peace. finally. you deserve it. and you always have.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

What am I supposed to be learning? Music proficiency or poise and grace?



Here I offer my first piano performance exam of the semester. Class Piano 2. Ivan Sings composed by Aram Khatchaturian. Well, Ivan attempts to sing through the piano and me and has a difficult time expressing himself. My first performance B in piano. No one got an A. Dr. Termini gave a very rousing lecture afterwards on expression in music and likened us to lifeless drones or something like that.

He asked us to ask ourselves why we wanted to be musicians. It's a good question. He said that the world is full of people who were technically proficient and that's not enough to sell tickets. If they can't 'feel you', they'll be bored. You have to connect to the audience. Share the experience with them. He's shown us video clips of some great performers so that we could see that it didn't matter that they missed a note here or there- the audiences loved them and didn't care because they were so moved.

Dr. Termini wants us to take risks - to risk missing a key if it's going to mean that we're up there saying something and not just going through the motions. It was quite a memorable speech. My friend Amber wished we had gotten it on video. I can really appreciate him wanting to set the bar high and to pass on what he has learned in his experience. He wants us to succeed. He cares:)

I care. This was the hardest piece yet. I made a lot of mistakes. Apparently, I even learned one note wrong. I had just memorized it, so I thought. It definitely was not an A performance. Not only did I get some notes wrong, have pauses due to rough transitions, and my bass was too loud, but I got points deducted for vocalizing my displeasure at my stumbling. It's a bad habit. When I perform with my guitar at open mics, sometimes when I mess up, I let out a screeching 'Aaaaaah! that reminds me of James Brown.

My other pieces last semester, I had memorized at least a week before the test and had time to work on expression. My first piece used to bring me to tears. I had finally gotten to the point a day or so before that I wasn't constantly focused on technique and was moved. It didn't happen during the performance though. I was still memorizing and working on technique. Especially those grace notes. I learned a lot. It kinda felt like I was trying to pat my head and rub my tummy at the same time.

AND..... I am totally stoked to be playing the piano!!! Who would have thought? I didn't even know there was a bass clef until the first day of piano last semester:) hee hee. I thought Every Good Boy Did Fine and that was it. I'll catch up with the band kids yet!!!!

Dr. Termini had us practice in front of the class the week before and it was wild. I didn't want to go. I didn't have it memorized. I still was getting lost. I had some of it memorized and I'm still so new to reading notes that sometimes I had the hardest time finding where I was in the score. I'd look down at my fingers and think 'okay, I need to find a place where there's a G in the right hand and an F and a C sharp in the left.' Sometimes, I just couldn't find where I was and would just have to start over from the beginning. The only thing that was working well was the pedal. I was one of the last people to go. Earlier, one young girl in the class sat down at the piano and was so frustrated with mistakes right at the beginning that she banged her hands on the keyboard and walked off, refusing to try again. I could relate to that feeling. I was sitting there thinking 'This is going to be sad.' Luckily, I also had the thought 'Well, this is my offering. I can't be any better than I am right now. I'll do the best I can.'

I walked up to the piano. I sat down and, miraculously it seemed, was really kind to myself and present. I focused on what I was doing and wasn't worried about what people were thinking, just what to do next. And next. And next. Dr. Termini helped me find my place and then at one point had me just move on to the next section. So I did without any self deprecating thoughts. Just doing the next thing as instructed. (Follow the simple instructions, Byron Katie says.) And I made it. To the end and didn't cut off the last note like most people had done, glad to have gotten the public practice over with, leaping out of the spotlight as soon as possible.

With gratitude, I let that last chord ring out and I listened. And then I turned to my audience, my classmates, with a huge smile, waved my fist in the air and yelled out 'Yeah!' And it's true that the audience wants you to succeed because everyone cheered with me. If I had dissed myself, people may have felt uncomfortable for me and squirmed in their seats. I put them at ease with my acceptance of myself except for one classmate who is as hard on herself as I am on me who said in disbelief: 'You're happy with that?!?'

Indeed I was. Happy to be playing the piano. Happy to be learning about music and about life. Cheri Huber says the process is more important than the content. I think she's right. I am happy to be supported by so many beings including myself, 'mistakes' and all.

The Singing Ladies of Ferrara

So...since I have hardly posted anything since school started last fall, let me share some of what I've been learning...here's my research paper for music literature last semester. I found it really interesting to study female musicians in the renaissance. Here's a link to a group in collaboration with a musicologist who is attempting to recreate their work called Musica Secreta. Hope you like it:)

The Singing Ladies of Ferrara

The latter part of the sixteenth century was a transitional time in music and art, a time of new ideas and experimentation and a mingling of art forms. Much music was written in Italy. The next musical era, the Baroque, would see the birth of Italian Opera. But before the rise of opera divas, there were the Singing Ladies of Ferrara. These accomplished musicians became known throughout Italy and abroad for their virtuous singing. Their style was copied by other ‘concerti di donne’ which arose during this time. They inspired poets and composers including Renaissance poet Torquato Tasso who in 1593 published this verse, ‘Forse e cagion l’aurora’, in tribute to one of its later members:

Perhaps the reason for the dawn is the beautiful sound

the leaves and branches and the waters and the wind make?

O in this sweet way, the sky honours Tarquinia

and because of her falls in love with the earth.

I hear, or it seems to me, I hear a voice: it can only be hers;

Lo, Tarquinia comes, and Love approaches. (1-9)

They were ‘professional’ musicians at a time when women could not officially be professional musicians. Though overlooked for centuries, modern scholars and vocalists are now paying tribute to this remarkable group of women in writing and performance (Gras). Who were these ‘ladies’ and what causes and conditions coalesced to create this musical phenomenon?

The Singing Ladies of Ferrara were not a group of women who decided to form a group and support themselves by selling recordings and touring. This would not have been possible during the time in which they lived. Women during the Renaissance had little choice in their vocation outside of child rearing. The incomes and careers of women who had them were managed by their husbands or fathers (Pendle 83). At this time, some singers were amateur noble women members of court and such as the renowned Lucrezia Bendidio, born in 1547 (Paganuzzi 467). Most of the women with more training were courtesans who made up the majority of singers at court from the Middle Ages through the first half of the sixteenth century (Jander 341). Courtesans were highly trained prostitutes who wined, dined and entertained their male guests with music and witty conversation (Pendle 57). During the late Renaissance in Italy, much care was taken to ensure distinction between the two (Pendle 83). The ‘Singing Ladies’ were neither courtesans nor were they of noble birth. How, then, did they come to be?

Laura Peverara, Anna Guarini and Livia D’Arco were brought together in 1580 by a man with power: Duke Alfonso II of Ferrara. He was a patron of music as were the three Dukes that came before him (Lockwood, 486). A rich musical tradition existed at the Este Court. In the 15th century, it had become internationally important as a musical center (Lockwood 486). Important visitors were treated to the Duke’s private chamber music, which became known as Musica Secreta. In 1580, the Duke married his third wife, Margherita of Mantua, who was also a patron of music. She was fifteen and in part to entertain her, he assembled more singers. Lucrezia Bendidio, mentioned earlier, had been retained at court by marriage. He had tried to go this accepted route and assemble more women of nobility who could sing, but was not successful. The last noblewoman he had ‘acquired’, Leonora Santivale, had died in childbirth (Gras). Not giving up his love of music, he then looked to the artisan classes (Gras) finding ways to make it work within the confines of his time. He brought over Laura Peverara, born in 1545, the daughter of a wealthy Mantuan merchant, older, and already known to be a singer of great excellence and charm (Newcomb 605). Laura was an accomplished harp player (Gras). Anna Guarini was the daughter of the famous Ferrarese poet, Battista Guarini (Hanning 771). Livia D’Arco was the youngest member and though she was from a minor noble family, it would not have been enough for her to be a member of the Duke’s court. She was brought for her musical potential, immediately beginning study of the lute (Gras). In need of further training, she did not perform with the group until 1582 (Pendle 80). He had earlier hired a male singer, Brancaccio, but then fired him in 1583 for insubordination. He was not replaced which left an all female ensemble.

The three women; Laura Peverara, Anna Guarini and Livia D’Arco; were all officially ladies-in-waiting to the Duchess of Ferrara and accompanied her on outings. None of them would have been in this position without talent as musicians and therefore were an anomalous entity in this time period. Arriving unmarried, marriages to nobles of Ferrara were arranged to lend respectability to the court, clearly differentiating them from courtesan status and, in the case of Guarini and D’Arco, removing them from the ‘ownership’ of the Mantuan court. Unfortunately, Anna Guarini’s jealous husband would later murder her under the pretext of infidelity (Hanning 771).

These three ladies remained in the service of the Duke from their arrival in 1580 until 1598 when the court dissolved after his death without heir (Lockwood 486). He had earlier hired a male singer, Brancaccio, but then fired him in 1583 for insubordination. He was not replaced which left an all female ensemble.

Tarquinia Molza, an older woman with higher social status was brought in as a performer and mentor to the group in 1583 (Newcomb “Molza” 474). She was the niece of a famous poet and was, in her own right, a poet, musician and scholar recognized in academic circles (Gras). A widow, she had studied music with the approval of her husband. Her five-year membership came to an end in 1589 when her affair with composer Giaches de Wert was discovered (Newcomb “Molza” 474).

The group had a rigorous schedule. In addition to their ladies-in-waiting duties, the women rehearsed four to six hours a day. The Duke listened to them two to four hours daily in his private chamber (Newcomb “Madrigal” 470). They sang singly, in duos and in trios (Strainchamps 378). In addition to singing their repertoire, they could sight read from part books (Pendle 82). Each member was proficient with at least one instrument and could accompany herself and/or the ensemble (Pendle 82). They also performed in the court balleti singing and dancing (Pendle 82).

What were ‘Ladies’ singing? They were performing the most important secular genre of music of the Renaissance: the Italian madrigal. The madrigal was a combination of poetry and music; a popular form of entertainment in Italian courts (Forney 114). Late Renaissance madrigals were especially rich, directly expressing the composer’s musical personality with chromatic harmony, and dramatic declarations vividly depicting emotion (Forney 116). The Ladies’ early repertoire consisted of embellished and modified existing madrigals and later included works composed specifically for them.

The Concerto Delle Donne differed from earlier singers in their virtuosic vocal style (Pendle 81). During this time, the soprano voice emerged as a major player in performance and an influential factor in composition (Jander 341). It is believed that the women probably improvised in rehearsal and then committed the perfected harmonic improvisations to memory (Pendle 82). This ‘new style’ of singing showcased wide-ranging and technically demanding ornamentation (Newcomb, “Madrigal” 470). For example, singers used low or high tessitura, unusual vocal intervals including the tritone, the 7th, 9th and 10th (Newcomb “Madrigal” 470). There were also abrupt silences and contrasts of tempo (Newcomb “Madrigal” 471). Madrigals of the 1580s became increasing ‘saturated’ with ornamented diminutions. This was not for the amateur singer.

Composers were inspired to write out ornamented vocal lines after hearing the ‘voguish new sound of an ensemble of high voices’ (Jander 341). Five staves including three soprano melodies can be seen in manuscripts from this time (Pendle 81). The director of the Musica Secreta, composer Luzzasco Luzzaschi, took five voice madrigals, and used lower voices for accompaniment and higher voices for the sopranos (Gras). An example of one of the works composed by Luzzaschi and thought to be part of the ‘secret’ repertoire not allowed to be published until after Duke Alfonso II’s death is the “Madrigali per cantare et sonare a 1-3 soprani” (Strainchamps 378). Monteverdi, a prominent madrigalist, visited and his subsequent works indicate the influence of his hearing of the Singing Ladies. In his first book of madrigals, the bass enters only after eight or more bars of rest; after the entry of soprano voices (Jander 341). The work, “Solo e pensoso”, of the composer Giaches de Wert shows the influence of the singing ladies (Newcomb “Madrigal” 471).

The benefits accorded the Concerto Delle Donne were many. Laura Peverara received a dowry for her marriage, an apartment in the ducal palace and stipends for her mother and husband (Pendle 83). Torquato Tasso dedicated many poems to her. In addition, three important musical anthologies were dedicated to her (Newcomb “Peverara” 605). During her tenure, Tarquinia Molza, a widower, instead of a receiving another husband, negotiated an apartment and a salary more than twice as high as Luzzaschi (Pendle 83). Later in her life, she became the first woman to receive Roman citizenship (Pendle 83). Anna Guarino and Livia D’Arco were flattered with poetry.

Though not all of its members achieved the same renown, the group, Concerto Delle Donne, became known far and wide and what evolved from the group singing together is of lasting import. The Singing Ladies were influenced by and then influenced the madrigal composers of the time. Together, performer, composer, patron and audience charted new territory. The uncharacteristic path of their lives helped shape a change in the relationship of women to music. Opera singers of the following era would have much more freedom, be recognized as professionals, and would not be required to marry and risk the murderous impulses of a jealous husband. Duke Alfonso II did not know what would be created when he sought out singers. He let his love of music lead the way. These ‘ladies-in-waiting’ must wait no longer for recognition not just as a Renaissance popular group that would have sold many CDs and filled many concert halls, but of their contribution to the evolution of music. Now, thanks to the formation of the musical group, Musica Secreta, in the 1980s, we can all be ‘important’ visitors to the Duke’s private chambers and pay our tribute.

Works Cited

Forney, Kristine and Joseph Machlis. The Enjoyment of Music. 10 ed. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2007. Print.

Gras, Laurie. “Early Music Times: Concerti di donne.” Dangerous Graces. U of Southampton. Feb. 2000. Web. 30 November 2009.

Jander, Owen. “Singing.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 17. 1980. 338-346. Print.

Lockwood, Lewis. “Ferrara.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 6. 1980. 486-489. Print.

Newcomb, Anthony. “Laura (Peperara) Peverara. The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 14. 1980. 605. Print.

Newcomb, Anthony. “Tarquinia Molza.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 12. 1980. 474. Print.

Paganuzzi, Enrico. “Lucrezia Bendidio.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 2. 1980. 467. Print.

Pendle, Karen. “Musical Women in Early Modern Europe.” Women & Music: a history. Ed. Karen Pendle. Bloomington: Indiana U P, 2001. 57 – 96. Print.

Tasso, Torquato. “Forse e cagion l’aurora.” 1593. Dangerous Graces. U of Southampton. Oct. 2002. Web. 30 November 2009.

Hanning, B. Russano. “Battista (Giovanni) Guarini.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 7. 1980. 770-772. Print.

Strainchamps, Edmond. “Luzzasco Luzzaschi.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 11. 1980. 378-381. Print.

Newcomb, Anthony. “Madrigal: The 1580s: The ornamented style: Dissemination of the hybrid madrigal.” The New Grove Dictionary of Music and MusiciansÒ. Ed. Stanley Sadie. New York: MacMillan Publishers, Limited. 1980. 2. 470 – 471. Print.