The other day, I stumbled upon a BBC News Article from 2006, which detailed the exhumation of castrato virtuoso Farinelli in order to study exactly how his amazing voice developed.
(An amusing aside: Chad and I were discussing this late one night as we walked to Turkey Hill. We were still talking about it when we paid at the register. The cashier asked us what we were talking about, and we had to explain to him that in the 1700s, it was fashionable to castrate little boys so that they could sing soprano as adults in choirs and in opera. He looked mildly horrified, and very confused as to why we were talking about this at all.)
Now, I honestly don't understand this. Don't we know how his voice developed? He was castrated before puberty. Beyond that, I highly doubt his progression was much different than any other amazing singer. So, really, what's the point?
The Farinelli Study Center in Bologna is sponsoring this. In the article, it says that through studying, they want to spread the word about his achievements. Here I will openly admit that I'm not familar with Farinelli or these achievements. Maybe I'm overly cynical, but I don't really see the point. It's not like he was a composer, with tangible documents to show what he did. There's only one recording of a castrato singer in existence, and it's of Allesandro Moreschi, over a century later. And while I'm sure that he was brilliant, what is the real value of spreading the word? What can we really learn from this? "Once, three hundred years ago, there was this guy called Farinelli. His parents mutilated him when he was a little boy, and then he was allegedly a really good singer. But since it was in the early 1700s we can't really tell for sure."
My opinion, however, is biased. Aside from the obvious negative aspects, namely the whole castration thing, I don't even like the way Castrato singing sounds. To be honest, it kind of creeps me out. The above recording, by Allesandro Moreschi, is the only recording because Moreschi was the last castrato to perform. By the 1900s, castration was already illegal. And maybe Moreschi isn't a prime example, but I don't have much else to compare it to.
I guess, creepiness aside, I can understand why they were "en vogue" so long. Castration before puberty has a lot of physiological effects that are beneficial to singing. It prevents the male vocal chords from changing and settling into an adult form, so they stay small and become very flexible. Because they had little to no testosterone, their bones grew abnormally long. In addition to making them very tall (Farinelli was reputed to be abnormally tall and this was confirmed when his bones were exhumed), their ribs were also unusually long, giving them a lot of extra space. This, combined with heavy training, allowed for amazing breath capacity.
The problem, though (aside from the obvious), is that there were a LOT of boys who were castrated by their parents in order to become singers, but very few were actually successful. This means that, having come from poor areas to begin with, a lot of boys grew up as eunuchs, mutilated pointlessly.
Apparantly now there is a disorder that prevents a boy from ever reaching sexual maturity... so castrati could still exist, minus the castration part.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
I was raised Catholic. I still consider myself practicing, but while I'm away at school I'm honestly not very good at it. Sundays come and go and I spend the whole day resting, cleaning, and catching up on homework. Every Lent I try to remedy this; I tell myself I'm going to start going to Mass again, and I do, even though it usually fades away after. I'm doing the same this year. I honestly do try, but realistically I'm just too scatterbrained for it to really stick when I'm doing it alone.
Why talk religion in an arts blog? Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Lent, for non-Catholics, is a period of forty days before Easter, and is intended as a period of intense spiritual renewal. In other words, you repent, you fast, you repent some more, and you genuinely try to be a better person. It's essentially the religious atmosphere of the whole middle ages crammed into about five weeks.
The reason I bring this up is that Lent, being a time when you're supposed to improve yourself, is a perfect time to expose yourself to new and different types of music, suitable for all your meditative needs. (Okay, okay. It's an excuse for me to try and convince you that chant isn't boring. I have ulterior motives.)
If traditional or Gregorian chant isn't your cup of tea, don't stop reading yet. What plainsong or monophonic chant did in the middle ages, Renaissance composers made much more interesting. Most relgious music is actually like this. For example, Mozart's Requiem mass is based on the traditional Gregorian Requiem mass. On top of borrowing the text, adaptations of these chants usually retain at least some aspects of the original tune.
The most obvious one that comes to mind for me is Alma Redemptoris Mater. The plainsong version is here. (It's not the best performance I've ever heard, but it was either this or the sheet music, and for the moment it's better just to hear it.) Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (most commonly known as Palestrina, for the city where he lived) did one of my favorite arrangements of it. You can see a performance of it on YouTube. If you listen to both, you'll notice right away that the first six notes are the same. After that they diverge, but you can still hear echoes of the original throughout. Tomas Luis de Victoria also did one.
Apparantly musical integrity wasn't quite as popular in the middle ages and renaissance, though. One of my favorite Palestrina pieces isn't even his. Adoramus Te has been circulating since the nineteenth century, according to CPDL.org, and borrows the soprano line from Francesco Roselli's Adoramus Te. I'm not sure how accurate all of this information is, since no sources are cited and because I remember hearing something different about it, but they do make the sheet music for both pieces available as PDF files, and the soprano lines match up.
My favorite Victoria piece... well, pieces... are not actually related to Lent at all, and are O Magnum Mysterium and the mass based on it, called "Missa de O Magnum Mysterium." "O Magnum Mysterium" is actually about the nativity. It really is difficult to choose, though, and Magnum only comes ahead by about a hair because of my own sentimental attachment to it.
It should be noted here that Palestrina and Victoria are two of my absolute favorite composers. Both are listed on www.classiccat.com, which is a directory of free classical music recordings across the internet. Most of these recordings are done by amateur, church, community, and university ensembles, but a lot of them are quite good. Check them out. Even if you're not religious, polyphonic chant is simply gorgeous and is definitely worth a listen.
Why talk religion in an arts blog? Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Lent, for non-Catholics, is a period of forty days before Easter, and is intended as a period of intense spiritual renewal. In other words, you repent, you fast, you repent some more, and you genuinely try to be a better person. It's essentially the religious atmosphere of the whole middle ages crammed into about five weeks.
The reason I bring this up is that Lent, being a time when you're supposed to improve yourself, is a perfect time to expose yourself to new and different types of music, suitable for all your meditative needs. (Okay, okay. It's an excuse for me to try and convince you that chant isn't boring. I have ulterior motives.)
If traditional or Gregorian chant isn't your cup of tea, don't stop reading yet. What plainsong or monophonic chant did in the middle ages, Renaissance composers made much more interesting. Most relgious music is actually like this. For example, Mozart's Requiem mass is based on the traditional Gregorian Requiem mass. On top of borrowing the text, adaptations of these chants usually retain at least some aspects of the original tune.
The most obvious one that comes to mind for me is Alma Redemptoris Mater. The plainsong version is here. (It's not the best performance I've ever heard, but it was either this or the sheet music, and for the moment it's better just to hear it.) Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina (most commonly known as Palestrina, for the city where he lived) did one of my favorite arrangements of it. You can see a performance of it on YouTube. If you listen to both, you'll notice right away that the first six notes are the same. After that they diverge, but you can still hear echoes of the original throughout. Tomas Luis de Victoria also did one.
Apparantly musical integrity wasn't quite as popular in the middle ages and renaissance, though. One of my favorite Palestrina pieces isn't even his. Adoramus Te has been circulating since the nineteenth century, according to CPDL.org, and borrows the soprano line from Francesco Roselli's Adoramus Te. I'm not sure how accurate all of this information is, since no sources are cited and because I remember hearing something different about it, but they do make the sheet music for both pieces available as PDF files, and the soprano lines match up.
My favorite Victoria piece... well, pieces... are not actually related to Lent at all, and are O Magnum Mysterium and the mass based on it, called "Missa de O Magnum Mysterium." "O Magnum Mysterium" is actually about the nativity. It really is difficult to choose, though, and Magnum only comes ahead by about a hair because of my own sentimental attachment to it.
It should be noted here that Palestrina and Victoria are two of my absolute favorite composers. Both are listed on www.classiccat.com, which is a directory of free classical music recordings across the internet. Most of these recordings are done by amateur, church, community, and university ensembles, but a lot of them are quite good. Check them out. Even if you're not religious, polyphonic chant is simply gorgeous and is definitely worth a listen.
Monday, February 4, 2008
The Piano Man Comes to Philadelphia
The Academy of Music in Philadelphia recently celebrated its 151st anniversary with its annual concert and ball.
Now, I have never attended these festivities. It's an occupational hazard of still living at home, and later, going to school two hours away from Philadelphia. A seasonal subscription to the Philadelphia Orchestra is one of items that I have to have, assuming I stay in the area after graduation and at some point have the money to do so. Right now, though, it's more a matter of bugging my parents and friends and trying to convince them that yes, they want to go see the orchestra at Verizon Hall, because guess what they're playing and the space is shaped like the inside of a cello! It's an argument that I usually lose.
Apparantly, though, the 151st anniversary was kind of a big deal. Billy Joel made a guest appearance at the concert portion of the event. This was his first performance with a major orchestra (and Philadelphia had it! woo!). A few of his popular songs were specially orchestrated for the occasion (this is not out of the ordinary; classical renditions of popular music are often performed at the Academy and elsewhere). Infinitely more intriguing, however, at least for the classically oriented, was the debut performance of his Waltz No. 2 (Steinway Hall).
Fans of Joel will probably know this already; Joel does have a heavily classical background. Both of his parents were musicians and he spent much of his childhood studying in this vein until he shunned it in favor of pop. Now, however, as you'll read in the Daily News article linked above, he seems to have returned to his roots, and shows more of an interest in composing Baroque and Romantic influenced neo-classical music for piano. There's an album, Fantasies and Delusions, Op. 1-10 available through various music outlets if you're interested in expanding your modern classical collection. The sheet music is also available to for aspiring pianists, and should present more of a challenge than transcriptions of Piano Man. Joel himself didn't actually play on the album; he composed all the music himself, but hired a more capable classical pianist to perform it.
I don't know if this means that Joel will start making the rounds as a classical musician, or if his appearance in Philadelphia was a one-off, but I'll definitely be keeping my eyes peeled for his next appearance.
Now, I have never attended these festivities. It's an occupational hazard of still living at home, and later, going to school two hours away from Philadelphia. A seasonal subscription to the Philadelphia Orchestra is one of items that I have to have, assuming I stay in the area after graduation and at some point have the money to do so. Right now, though, it's more a matter of bugging my parents and friends and trying to convince them that yes, they want to go see the orchestra at Verizon Hall, because guess what they're playing and the space is shaped like the inside of a cello! It's an argument that I usually lose.
Apparantly, though, the 151st anniversary was kind of a big deal. Billy Joel made a guest appearance at the concert portion of the event. This was his first performance with a major orchestra (and Philadelphia had it! woo!). A few of his popular songs were specially orchestrated for the occasion (this is not out of the ordinary; classical renditions of popular music are often performed at the Academy and elsewhere). Infinitely more intriguing, however, at least for the classically oriented, was the debut performance of his Waltz No. 2 (Steinway Hall).
Fans of Joel will probably know this already; Joel does have a heavily classical background. Both of his parents were musicians and he spent much of his childhood studying in this vein until he shunned it in favor of pop. Now, however, as you'll read in the Daily News article linked above, he seems to have returned to his roots, and shows more of an interest in composing Baroque and Romantic influenced neo-classical music for piano. There's an album, Fantasies and Delusions, Op. 1-10 available through various music outlets if you're interested in expanding your modern classical collection. The sheet music is also available to for aspiring pianists, and should present more of a challenge than transcriptions of Piano Man. Joel himself didn't actually play on the album; he composed all the music himself, but hired a more capable classical pianist to perform it.
I don't know if this means that Joel will start making the rounds as a classical musician, or if his appearance in Philadelphia was a one-off, but I'll definitely be keeping my eyes peeled for his next appearance.
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