Latin silentio ‘in silence’. Where I live now (also vivide ‘vividly, vigorously’, but that’s a topic for another posting). I’ve had profound laryngitis (probably a concomitant of cryptosporidiosus, which I’m otherwise holding at bay), occasionally moderating a bit so I can have actual conversations. But mostly I’m a whisperer, and the people on the reception desk at my facility have begun to ask me to write things down instead of whispering unintelligibly to them.
Last week there was a brief spectacular clearing of the dark laryngeal clouds during a conversation I was having with Manalee Shukla, the program director at Palo Alto Commons / Avant. I once again tossed off some offhand remark about things I did, revealing thereby some utterly unexpected facet of my experience. This time it was Sacred Harp singing, which of course she’d never heard about (though it’s an important part of my life).
Oh, I said, I can’t sing now, I can barely talk, but I can play some wonderful videos of shapenote singers in action, from Ireland. Here, I can pull up one of my favorite songs, Bridgewater (SH 276), so good it can literally send me into ecstasy [more AZ news for Manalee: alternative states of consciousness, woo-woo]. I’ll try to hum along a little bit, it moves me so much.
Sidebar on the song. From my 12/28/12 posting “Praise singing”:
This morning’s coming-to-consciousness music on my iTunes was the moving and joyous Sacred Harp song Bridgewater (276 in the 1991 Denson Revision), as sung at the 1999 United Sacred Harp Convention (one of seven versions I have of the song). It’s a simple tune with a fine fuguing chorus giving the effect of banks of trumpets sounding praise [my tastes in shapenote music run strongly to angels and trumpets]. Words by the prolific hymnwriter Isaac Watts, text by Lewis Edson (1748-1820), one of America’s first composers:
verse:
From all that dwell below the skies,
Let the Redeemer’s praise arisefuguing chorus:
Let the Redeemer’s name be sung
Through every land by every tongue
(Yes, it’s also a linguist’s song: through every land by every tongue)
(I’m a non-believer, but this music brings me some appreciation of what Christians see as the grace of God)
Meanwhile, back in Palo Alto. My little hum exploded into full-throated, wildly powerful song. Erupted. Rattling the windows.
Manalee was bowled over (“You can really sing”). Hell, I was bowled over.
Then I could talk normally for a little while. Soon after I went silent again, and have yet to come back.
But I got that one remarkable moment, and it was a great gift.
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