Connections: The Songs We Sung
My husband and I live with tunes of the past. He’s worse than I am, or is it better? He wakes up almost every morning with a song and his repertoire is vast. He’s got Broadway tunes, folk songs, camp songs, and even old radio commercials — like one for G.E. lightbulbs — rattling around somewhere waiting to be unleashed. And he never can explain why a particular song comes forth
On the other hand, I don’t start waxing musical until I’m wide awake, and then I tend to wander around with bits of melody in my head that won’t go away. Today, for example, it was the first line of a song Jenny sings in “The Threepenny Opera”: “There was a time and now it’s all gone by. . . .”
You might be inclined to think that, given the lyric, this song came from a deep, if unconscious, melanchony feeling about time having fled, and you might be right. I am also apt to hear a Noel Coward song that begins with “Where are the songs we sung” or “Long Ago and Far Away” by Jerome Kern and Ira Gershwin.
But the truth is that there’s some fun and pretense going on. “There was a time and now it’s all gone by” when I used to fantasize about performing in this or that musical, and at least Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht’s “Threepenny Opera” is among the best.
At other times, the music in my head brings a sense of satisfaction rather than longing. Chris and I try to see every live performance from the Metropolitan Opera that is screened in high definition at Guild Hall. Two weeks ago, the opera was Verdi’s “Otello,” with a stunning performance by a young Bulgarian soprano, Sonya Yoncheva. Her “Willow Song” was heartbreakingly beautiful. “There was a time” when, as a voice student, I learned the “Willow Song” and I remember just enough of it now to enjoy the memory.
“Tannhauser” is coming up this Saturday, and I suppose I could offer to sing a bit from it, too. In high school, I auditioned with three others for the New Jersey All-State Chorus, singing part of “The Pilgrims Chorus” from the opera. I still remember with pride that a judge not only gave us good marks but said I held the group together.
Truth is, I used to be called on in (was it?) third grade to come to the front of the room to belt out “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” if the morning assembly at Woodrow Wilson Elementary School ran short and the bell hadn’t rung, and I’ve sung in choirs and choruses ever since. But it is the slow ballads that continue to reverberate.
But enough. You don’t have to imagine what any of the songs in my mind would sound like if you could hear what I hear. Just go to YouTube and listen to the greats.