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Musings 29/07/2020Musical MusingsVoorpret?– (Dutch) Literally?pre-fun, the pleasure feeling one might have before a pleasant event, like a holiday.This year was going to be a year for live music in my household. I was really looking forward to it. My son is coming up three in the autumn and we are keen to take him to explore the sensory extravaganza that festivals can represent. He has been to a couple of events already, appropriately clad in ear defenders, but this year he is mobile and involved in what’s going on around him, unlike the barely crawling infant he was for the previous outings. I had started looking into family friendly events and we had been putting some money aside to pay for our tickets. I was enjoying thinking about which bands we might see, the storytelling tents, face painting, and children’s activities, the pleasure of sleeping surrounded by other tents, and being part of something, a collective experience.Growing up, I went to several music festivals and I have amazingly vivid memories of all of them. I can be transported back in time by something as simple as the smell of roasting coffee (so welcome on a damp, achy morning after a night in a cramped tent) or hot dust (I managed to go to Glastonbury on a non-muddy year.) Coloured flags, incense burning, bonfire smoke, trance music or tribal drumming all whisk me back down the years to my teens and twenties. I have also been lucky to hear some of my favourite bands play live. I was there at Reading '96 when Prodigy headlined. I saw Underworld there too, and Rage Against the Machine. I travelled to Paris to see my all time favourite band, Portishead, play to a packed out Zenith arena. I cried all the way through, I was so utterly overwhelmed by the beauty and melancholy of the music, and the tiny vulnerability of the singer on the vast stage. I was honoured to attend the first ever Holiofest at the Exeter Phoenix, hopefully now an annual event raising money for mental health charities, held in memory of a Tom Holio who tragically took his own life. In many ways music has been a constant, a theme flowing through my life, intrinsically linked to the peaks and troughs in my existence through its sound waves.Sadly, with the advent of Covid 19, none of our plans were able to come to anything. Concerts have been cancelled or postponed, festivals are on hold, the creative industries are suffering worse than most. This does not mean they have stopped giving though. Online offerings have taken off. I have been to one virtual concert (Martha Tilston – beautiful, soulful folk music), and one virtual festival (Download – a remix of metal from previous Download festivals, with band interviews and unseen footage.) Glasthomebury went ahead for the first time, allowing more people to join in the fun from their homes and to relive their past visits to the real thing. Choirs, orchestras, and concerts are all now able to come to you, instead of you to them. While I like this idea, and it is definitely something that is welcome during this difficult time, I can’t help feeling that these virtual offerings lack something in terms of atmosphere (perhaps I need to work harder on evoking a festival vibe by digging out my festival floral frocks, lighting joss sticks, and having a barbecue, while watching in my wellies.) I was feeling rather dejected about all the cancellations. What were we going to do with our summer now? All of my dreams were shattered. Then I realised that this is not quite true. Firstly, there will be other years. Covid will not present the same threat forever. A cure or vaccine will be found, and then musical events will be back on with a vengeance as the industry claws it’s way back from the brink. Secondly, my dreams will always be my dreams. The festival reality would always have been different. There may have been other challenges or disappointments involved in the real thing. And I really enjoyed dreaming my dreams, getting immersed in the voorpret, the daydreams, the planning and the possibilities. That in itself was a worthwhile exercise, and one which I enjoyed even if the fun itself never happened. And, even better, it was free, I can do it any time, and I don’t have to go anywhere near a portaloo.Music for Mental HealthMusic, for me, is a kind of marvel. I have tried to play the piano and guitar (without much success) and can just about hold a note when I sing (though which one, I’m not sure!) I am seriously envious of those who can pick up a guitar and effortlessly pluck a tune from wood and wire. I love to hear voices harmonising, unaccompanied, simply supporting each other around a campfire. I was, like the rest of the world, really moved by video footage of Italians singing from their windows and balconies when their country was being ravaged by the virus, bringing them together even while they were kept apart.Music offers so much. It can lift us up, energise us, connect us, plunge us into despair, fuel outrage, support protest, show solidarity, give thanks, calm us, and soothe our spirits. If I was offered three wishes, being able to play any instrument could well make the cut because, as someone who can’t play, music seems like a magic spell which has so many different powers, and can captivate those hearing it in a way that few other things can. Music is also good for us. X-system and the Recovery College Online are offering curated playlists of music to support the use of music for wellbeing. You can choose uplifting playlists for when you need a boost, or calming ones for difficult days. Explore the playlists and learn about the science behind it here. Learning to play an instrument has benefits too. Studies have shown that learning to play an instrument can positively impact mental health, relieving stress, lessening depression and reducing anxiety. Keeping the brain active can also stave off adverse ageing effects and help maintain memory. The DRLC offers musical opportunities in the form of djembe drumming and guitar. The best news about learning to play an instrument is that effects are noticeable even if you’re not a skilled musician. As with so many things, it’s the journey, the getting involved and having a go, that makes the difference.With my own mental health in mind, I bought myself a present. It’s an instrument called a hand pan or steel tongue drum. It comprises a squashed ball shape, metal body, on short stubby feet, and into the top side are cut tongues of varying dimensions which give different notes. These tongues are numbered, giving the player the ability to choose which note they play with their drum sticks or fingers, and so create simple tunes. It’s almost like an inverted steel drum, and was originally made from an adapted steel propane gas cylinder. The sounds it makes are kind of ethereal, and remind me of meditation classes I’ve been to, sounding a little like the bell note a Tibetan singing bowl makes. The drum came with an instruction book, giving advice on tuning and with notation for some simple tunes (Happy Birthday is the first one, to give some idea of the level of complexity we’re talking about, though more intricate tunes are possible.) Since it arrived I have not had much success at finding time to learn what I’m doing. The minute I take it out of its carry pouch my son is ready to pounce and grab the drumsticks. He can then spend quite some time (we’re talking well into double minute figures – no mean feat for a very active toddler) bashing at it happily and making what very definitely sounds like music. I’m happy with this. The present may not have turned out to be the personal gift I intended, but I have accidentally received an even greater one. My son is interested and engaged with musicality in a way I never felt I was as a child. I’m glad to give my drum over to him if it encourages this interest, at an age when learning comes so easily, and goes on to give him the ability to cast the musical spells I so wish I could. In the meantime, I can relish the voorpret of imagined concerts, and enjoy my own learning another day.9867901587500Craft ProjectDIY Wind chimesIf, like me, you struggle to find your inner musician perhaps letting nature make the music for you is an option. Making wind chimes is simple, fun and gives lasting pleasure when you hear them tinkling in your garden or window.16363953429000You will needA sturdy-ish stick or similar pole for hanging your chimes from (I used a cut down length of bamboo garden cane, but you could choose some drift wood, a small branch, or even an old wooden spoon!)Various found objects such as beads, shells, hard seed pods, short bamboo lengths, old keys, sea glass, cutlery, etc. – the choice is yours! (I used sea glass and china, wooden, plastic, ceramic and glass beads, slates, metal bells, and a sea shell.)Wire or stringFishing line (or more string)Super glueInstructionsCut a length of wire or string long enough to tie to each end of your chosen hanger, whilst leaving enough slack in the middle to facilitate easy hanging up when finished. Attach with a secure knot (string) or by twisting tightly around (wire.)Tie your chosen found objects periodically along lengths of fishing line, securing the knots with super glue. Allow space at the top of each piece of line to tie it onto the hanger.Once you’ve completed as many lengths as you want, begin tying them at intervals along the hanger, ensuring that they are able to 'chime' into each other. Secure each knot with super glue.Hang the completed wind chime in a breezy area and listen to the gentle clink of your creation.Two Poems about Music and LifeOn Music by Thomas MooreWhen through life unblest we rove,Losing all that made life dear,Should some notes we used to love,In days of boyhood, meet our ear,Oh! How welcome breathed the strain!Wakening thoughts that long have slept,Kindling former smiles againIn faded eyes that long have wept.Like the gale, that sighs alongBeds of Oriental flowers,Is the grateful breath of song,That once was heard in happier hours.Fill'd with balm, the gale sighs on,Though the flowers have sunk in death;Its memory lives in Music’s breath.Music, oh, how faint, how weak,Language fades before thy spell!Why should Feeling ever speak,When thou canst breathe her soul so well?Friendship’s balmy words may feign,Love’s are even more false than they;Oh! ‘tis only music’s strainCan sweetly soothe, and not betray.That Music Always Round Me by Walt WhitmanThat music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning – yet long untaught I did not hear;But now the chorus I hear, and am elated;A tenor, strong, ascending, with power and health, with glad notes of day-break I hear,A soprano, at intervals, sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense waves,A transparent bass, shuddering lusciously under and through the universe,The triumphant tutti – the funeral wailings, with sweet flutes and violins – all these I fill myself with;I hear not the volumes of sound merely – I am moved by the exquisite meanings,I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving, contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in emotion;I do not think the performers know themselves – but now I think I begin to know them. ................
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