Colors

The yellow fire hydrants must be incredibly jealous. In the stark landscape of winter, they will seem like a welcome splash of color amidst the whites, greys, and browns. But right now, they look like artificial lemon candy amidst the infinite shades scattered by the trees. If Nature's first green is gold, this must be the most perfect palindrome.

Color has dominated my day in many respects. In my studio class, I performed "La Romance d'Ariel", an early Debussy piece voiced by the sprite, Ariel, from Shakespeare's Tempest. The text and setting are Ariel calling across the mountains to Miranda. Ariel mixes in visions of nature, the way the foxglove will ring along Miranda's path and how she will turn even more blonde under the birch foliage. Eventually, caught up in this rapture for the earth, Ariel dreamily describes how Miranda will see the lake in the crux of the valley, turning blue and reflecting the moods of the summer sky. At this point, Ariel realizes that just as the lake reflects the gaiety and sadness of the sky, so too does a heart too much in love reflect the relationship. Ariel is in love with Miranda. But Ariel realizes suddenly that Miranda is lost, gone forever. And the final repeat of the first words take on a new plaintive beseeching: "Across the sweet mountains, won't you come to the call of your Ariel?" The final sounds are nothing but "Ah" that leaps up and down the staff, a final desperate cry across the mountains.

I connect with this piece in so many ways. Debussy is one of those composers who pull something deep in my soul. The colors of his music are like those of the Impressionist painters. So much of the landscape becomes vivid before me because of the melodic swirls in his accompaniment. I can see Ariel, and I can feel the loss at the end. And that enables me to step out of myself and my technical concerns for a bit. My voice takes on its own new colors as it finds its home in the stratosphere. (The piece swings quite high in places, hovering around the G-D that are at the top of or off the treble staff.)

After I finished, my voice teacher exclaimed, "I feel like I'm hearing you for the first time! I haven't previously heard you in that upper quadrant of your voice. It's like I thought you were purple, and it turns out you're fuschia!"

Pretty nifty :)

~Hope