| previous story |
list of stories |
next story |
| Deborah Roberts |
singing to the snowflakes |
| How I started singing |
|
In one of my earliest memories I was standing alone in the park, thick snow all around me and snowflakes falling. It was a glorious moment and I remember spinning round singing while the flakes fell into my mouth. It was always how I expressed happiness as a child. When a bit older I persuaded my mother to let me sing in the local parish church choir; I was the only girl in a row of boys and had to hide my pony tail under a small cap. In general I can't remember a time when singing wasn't everything to me - and the burning desire to be a performer didn't overule any other wishes I had for my future.
I didn't come from the sort of family that could afford music lessons so I never learned a musical instrument and all I learned about music was through state education and listening to the radio. I started singing lessons at 16 so that I could take the grade exam then required to be allowed to do A level music. From there I never looked back. My first great passion was Mozart opera, and Figaro in particular, and I almost wore the LP's flat while singing along with every soprano role - goodness knows what our neighbours had to put up with!
As an avid radio listener I remember first hearing David Munrow's Early Music Consort of London. I was hooked on the whole sound world, and was later lucky enough to study under him for a year at university - messing around with crumhorns and goodness know what else! But he also encouraged me to explore the vast, as yet virtually undiscovered wealth of early vocal music. He died only a year later but he had planted a seed that is still bearing fruit. I don't think I will ever stop exploring this glorious and seemingly endless repertoire, both as a professional singer and director of choirs. |
| Why I love it |
|
|
It brings togther physical exhilaration, mental satisfaction, deep communication at levels we don't even understand. within a group it can also meld the individual lines into a whole that can vastly exceed the sum of the parts (at its best anyway!!). That is a process I see happening throughout the whole universe, and responsible for its dynamic and evolving nature. So at the risk of sounding hopelessly pretentious (!) I guess it connects me with that litle girl who sang at the snowflakes and felt a deep calm and sense of one-ness with the world
|
|
