My Musical Musings - by Elizabeth Clements
Have you ever listened to
a song in another language and wanted to know what it was all about? I grew up listening
to country music on the radio. My mother loved opera, had books that told about
some of the operas and arias. She missed not hearing them so when we finally
bought a stereo, she’d buy classical lps. I didn’t understand the words, but I
loved the melodies. One album that I nearly wore out was Carmen. Oh how I loved The
Toreador Song as I dusted the furniture. And then there was Tschaikovsky’s
1812 Overture. In my mind’s eye I’d see the Cossacks flying over the steppes on
their speedy steeds and imagine the clash of sabers and the cannon’s roar. Even
the cartoons on tv used opera when Tom was chasing Jerry or Road Runner played
tricks on Coyote….I think that was his name.
In my humble opinion,
nothing speaks to the soul like music— and sometimes without a single word
spoken. But when a song had words, oh my, nothing could beat Marty Robbins’ El
Paso. That was my teenage anthem. And Frankie Laine singing Ghost Riders
in the Sky. And on a Saturday night, at home all alone, laying on the couch
and dreamily listening to Elvis asking, Are You Lonesome Tonight, or Jim
Reeves saying, He’ll Have To Go. Even my opera-loving mom loved these
last two singers.
All four Beetles were songwriters
as well as musicians, but Paul McCartney and John Lennon were the most prolific.
Between them they wrote and recorded over
200 songs from 1962 until 1970. Much of
the older population shrugged them off as just another (phenomenally)
successful rock group…until someone had the brilliant idea to adapt Yesterday,
Penny Lane, Let It Be, and All You Need Is Love, to cite just a
few, to be performed by a symphony orchestra. At times one didn’t realize it
was a Beetles song until the melody broke into the familiar chorus. I think only
then was The Beetles’ incredible talent truly appreciated by the non-rock
populace <grin>.
It isn’t just
instrumentals that can stoke one’s love of music. I think Spanish and Italian
are two of the most beautiful and romantic languages in the world. There have
been times when I’ve longed to know the words of a song performed in another
language. Two singers I’ve chosen to use as examples are Julio Iglesias and
Ivan Rebroff. They are opposites in many ways, but their talent and emotional contribution to their songs has me often enthralled.
The first time I heard
Julio sing (he’s the father of Enrique Iglesias) was back in late 1982 when he
made his first appearance on American television on The Tonight Show with Johnny
Carson, which we watched every night. Johnny introduced someone but I was half
asleep and didn’t catch the name— but in just a few seconds I jerked to full
attention.
“That’s him! That’s him!”
I squealed. Poor Doug, he didn’t know what the heck I was talking about. At the
time I was working on my third book, about two pop singers. I saw Samantha, my
heroine, quite clearly, blue eyes and gorgeous long red hair to match her sexy,
smoky voice. Samantha’s partner in crime was her manager and accompanied her on
the piano. He was also in love with her. I had a hero, of course, also a
singer, but I couldn’t “see” him until that incredible moment on late night
television.
Okay, back to Julio. He
sang with such emotion, often with his eyes closed and I remember demanding out
loud, “Open your eyes.” He did, occasionally, for just a couple of heartbeats
and I was mesmerized with those soulful, almost bashful brown eyes. (He’s a
very humble person). I felt his emotion,
but I didn’t know a single word he was singing. And wanted to. Badly, and yet in
one way it didn’t really matter because I was so wrapped up in the melody. But I
did want to know his name (this was before the age of Google, let alone the
internet <bigger grin>. And then the program ended and to my utter
frustration, not any further information was forthcoming about this awesome Spanish
singer. For some reason the video of his first appearance is no longer available, so the video below is his second appearance on The Tonight Show where he sings Natalie.
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Julio+Iglesias+first+appearance+on+Johnny+Carson+Tonight+Show&&view=detail&mid=B9D1293B9D9ABB996CBEB9D1293B9D9ABB996CBE&&FORM=VDRVSR
Two weeks later, the
incredible happened. Johnny mentioned their switchboard had lit up after a
singer had performed and there was such a never-before-demand for the return of
a singer so soon after a performance. And this time I learned his name. Also,
by this time my Samantha had kicked my original hero to the curb, had even
forgotten his name (as did I) and she was falling in love for real. I gave this
transformed hero a fitting name: Julius. Except when I was talking about my
story, I kept calling him Julio instead of Julius. So, I thought to avoid further
confusion for others as well as myself, I renamed my hero Raphael, a very good
Spanish name, right?
Also, in those two weeks
before Julio’s second guest on The Tonight Show, my Muse and I were very active
in creating a history and background for Raphael. And here’s the kicker. Several
years later, long after I’d finished the book and put it aside to write my
first historical romance, I came across a little bio simply called Julio,
complete with his life story and pictures. I think I must have somehow channeled
Julio’s life because the similarities between his real life and my fictional
one were downright psychic.
Julio was born in Madrid, Spain, to wealthy parents. He excelled at
sports and had dreams of continuing with soccer when a car accident left him
partly paralyzed. A nurse gave him a guitar to help pass the time as well as exercise
his fingers. Eventually he started writing songs. Little did he know this exercise
would inspire him to write a song, sing it and win a song contest in Spain,
likened to Star Search. Since then he has sold more than 100 million records in
14 languages. When he came to the Jubilee Auditorium, Doug and I went to see
him. We had excellent seats, but we were also in a direct line with the
powerful speakers, so I think my head was a little numb—but oh, my heart was
euphoric!
Here’s my favorite song by Julio, which he also wrote and sang in
Spanish on The Tonight Show. I so wanted to know the words. He has since recorded
Hey in English. But that song, too, proves when a song squeezes the heart,
the melody also caresses the soul.
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Julio+Iglesias+Hey&view=
Julio remains my favorite singer to this day (yes, Marty Robbins, Jim
Reeves, Tom Jones, Adam Lambert and Elvis, I love your gift that you share with
the world…but Julio’s my favorite). And I love his music best of all when he
sings in Spanish, even though I only understand a few words here and there…and
it doesn’t matter because the heart loves what it loves.
However, now I have to introduce you to Ivan Rebroff because this
Russian-German singer is not to be missed and is in my top seven list of
favorite singers. I would “guesstimate” that 99.9% of the readers of this blog
have never heard of him. Perhaps I never would have, either, if we hadn’t been
living in Germany for five years and first saw him on German television back in
about 1969 or 1970.
Standing an impressive 6’5”, often performing in Russian peasant
clothing and a Cossack hat, Ivan Rebroff was an awesome singer with a 4.5-octave
range from deep, deep bass soaring to beyond soprano. In 1931, he was born prematurely
on a train station platform in Berlin, Germany, of immigrant Russian parents. I’m sad to say he died of heart failure in 2008.
His big break came in 1968. Although he sings classical and opera, he is
most famous (and popular) for his Russian and/or German folk songs. I have his
Christmas album plus a two-CD set that has a collection of many of his beloved
songs that he sings in German or Russian. He also sings in English, so a Google
search can get you several English renditions such as Old Man River and Danny
Boy, etc. I couldn’t find a video of my favorite song by him, but this one
is my second favorite, called Abend Glocken or Evening Bells.
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?
I also have to share this next video simply because it shows his playful
side and how he can slide from falsetto to deep, deep bass that gives me
delicious shivers. It’s called Im Tiefen Keller (literally translated
Deep in the Celler and is another one of my favorites because it beautifully
demonstrates his awesome range, plus, I absolutely love his sense of humor as
he sings a drinking song. After all, he is an actor as well as a singer. https://www.bing.com/videos/search?
Doug and I attended his concert at the Jubilee Auditorium in Calgary and
because Doug knew the security guard, we were able to go backstage to meet Ivan
Rebroff after the concert. He’s even more impressive in person than on tv. I still
have his signed souvenir photograph.
In closing, I just want to mention that music has always been a large
part of my life. I come from a long line of musicians, most of whom had their
own small bands and played at dances, weddings and other special occasions in
the old country. My grandfather played the violin as did my great-uncle. I
learned to play the piano, but sadly I didn’t inherit their talent nor their voice.
I treasure childhood memories of Saturday nights at my great-uncle’s
home where all my family would gather around for music, singing and dancing
(and probably some liquid “refreshments” as musicians were known to love their
wine and ale. When we moved to the farm, my mother’s cousins and their wives
would sometimes take the hour-long trip to come visit overnight. After supper,
the dining room table was pushed against the wall, the scatter rugs rolled up
and stashed and it was like old times again, just fewer people. Peter would
bring his accordian and play while my mom and his brother, Johnny, danced. They
did the waltz beautifully, but it’s the tango I remember the best. I loved watching them dance, but I also have
many memories of Peter, his head cocked to one side, his eyes closed, as he
played without any sheet music. He truly felt the music and could play by ear
as well as read sheet music. There would be singing and it was wonderful.
I remember rides in the truck going home from town on a Saturday night, my
grandmother in the middle and me sitting on my mother’s lap. They sang beautiful
harmony while I sang lead because I didn’t have their talent to harmonize and
sometimes I’d slide into harmony, too. Hopeless, but now I just smile and
ignore my two left feet <grin>.
I hope you’ll take a few minutes to listen to the videos and perhaps be
lured into watching a few more. I’d love to hear about your musical musings and
memories.
In light of my musical musings, here is a little excerpt from my
novella, Diamond Jack’s Angel. I’m so proud to be part of the anthology with
five other wonderful authors that make up the Hot Western Nights Anthology. It’s
great reading any time of the year, not just on a hot summer night.
He
shook her off with a smile and wave of his rope-veined hand. “No more talk. Just
sing, mein Engel, sing.”
Angela
smiled at the endearment. She’d always been his angel from the moment he’d
first held her. Her parents had taken her back to Austria for a visit when she
was four years old. He’d sat her on his knee and taught her to strum the small
guitar he’d bought for her. Hand in hand they’d walked in the alpine meadows where
he’d shown her the small white flower, edelweiss,
and spoken of his love for the mountains. Years later, lonely after his wife
died, he’d travelled to Colorado to visit his daughter and had felt instantly
at peace among the Rockies, different from the Alps, but still beloved
mountains. Angela instinctively knew he’d never leave them.
And
so, she strummed and sang songs her mother and Opa had taught her. One by one, five old miners emerged from their
tents and gathered near the fire, joining in on a chorus or simply humming
along with the now-familiar songs. When she played the last notes of the song
she’d written about edelweiss, it was
an unspoken end to the evening and the old men retired to their tents.
Feeling
unusually melancholy, Angela stared at the dying fire, stroking Max’s big head,
grateful for his company. He was always sensitive to her feelings and pressed
closer, nudging his cold nose into her palm. She loved being here with her
grandfather, taking care of him, cooking for the miners who treated her like a
daughter. They always took time to hunt and bring meat for an evening meal,
supplementing their food with the milk and eggs from the goat and chickens. For
extra income, she took in laundry, which filled her days. Keeping busy made her
forget how much she missed her parents who had been killed in an avalanche
while they were skiing.
She
couldn’t bear to live in the house, so when her grandfather came to Denver for the
funeral, she’d left with him. And how much longer would she have him? He was in
his high seventies, getting so frail but far too stubborn to admit it was becoming
harder each day to work his claim.
Rising, she doused
the fire, picked up her guitar and climbed into the wagon to sleep.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.clements.549
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17898781.Elizabeth_Clements
Link for Diamond Jack’s Angel/Hot
Western Nights Anthology
https://www.amazon.com/Western-Nights-Karen-Michelle-Nutt-ebook/dp/B07T9F21B5/ref=pd_rhf_se_p_img_3?
https://www.amazon.com/Beneath-Horse-Thief-Moon-Prairie-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B07BHQNBDW/ref=as_li_ss_tl?
Beneath A Horse Thief Moon: http://amzn.to/2FVunRW
https://www.amazon.com/Beneath-Fugitive-Moon-Prairie-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B07SZ4LHVS
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