WORLD OF BARBARA LEWIS BLOG
As a kid I imagined myself one day singing with an amazing voice that had endless power, wide range and breathtaking technical know-how that would allow me to express the most subtle emotions.
It is probably the dream of many would-be opera singers, but with one important difference. I saw myself on-stage not with a symphony but with a rock band. And the songs I was singing were of my own creation.
Looking back, I believe this lopsided kiddy dream has fueled some of my most sudden shifts on the way to building a life in music. For one thing, it indirectly pushed me as an adult to write my first song.
I had been training to sing opera for a number of years, never feeling quite right about it. Still, my voice was growing. It was a big voice with lots of high notes and increasing technical ability. Due to wonderful training, I could sing many of the greatest opera arias. And there were important people in the classical music business who thought I would make a fine opera singer. But I was not happy with the specter of singing music written in the 1800s for the rest of my life (a life that, hopefully, would stretch far into the 2000s). I felt I had something of my own to say. The question was, how to express it.
As a first step, I decided to sing music that was near to my heart-Celtic folk songs. My mother is Irish and my father had Welsh ancestry. I grew up with the sounds of folk music ricocheting through the house. It was a natural course for me.
The response was certainly positive. Though this was some time before Celtic music became the rage, the audience came out and enjoyed what I had to offer, seeming to want more.
Still, for me something didn't feel true.
This was old music. The melodies were beautiful, the audience was engaged, but the words failed to say what I wanted to express. Putting aside my feelings, I pressed on and began to make an impact with my new style. People got used to me not being a singer of classical music. I had a new route.
Then, one day, I decided to write a Celtic-flavored song of my own.
I had a contract to perform my British Isles concert in Nova Scotia, Canada. For the occasion I decided to write a new song. It would be a haunted-castle tune that would allow me to explore my fascination with how events from the past and future can merge with those from the present. I titled the song "Ancient Spirits."
It was received well. My husband was supportive. Even my singing teacher, who continued to encourage me develop my operatic singing, loved the song. She sent me an extravagant bouquet of flowers after hearing a performance.
But my success with "Ancient Spirits" spelled trouble.
There was no turning back. Having written my own music with my own words-for my own voice-I wanted more. Gradually opera took a back seat to the many tasks involved in re-visioning a career.
If you are interested in reading the words to "Ancient Spirits," here they are:
ANCIENT SPIRITS
©Barbara Lewis
On the western shore of Scotland
Looking out across the sea
In the mist there stood an island
With a castle on the lea.
And I felt an odd sensation as I gazed upon that place
Like a spirit of the ancients drawing me through time and space.
Down on shore, a boat stood waiting
I walked on without concern
Though with men and women working hard
It was quiet stem to stern.
In the air there was a feeling that a mystery was nigh
As the crew prepared for leaving without knowing where nor why.
Chorus:
Ancient Spirits rise and wander
In a place where time stands still
Present tense and past are joined
With some strange mission to fulfill.
Phantom boat serenely sailing
Cross the water, castle-bound
Birds on high in circles tailing
All was done without a sound.
Suddenly the mist ascended straight ahead the castle loomed
Like a ghost, its contours hazy, turrets lighted by the moon.
As the boat began to anchor
Tiny lights appeared on shore
Moving then as if to meet us
Hooded figures, four by four.
As they came, the boat sailed forward
Though there was no wind nor tide
Hidden forces held us spellbound,
no desire to run nor hide.
Chorus:
Ancient Spirits rise and wander
In a place where time stands still
Present tense and past are joined
With some strange mission to fulfill.
Then the figures walked on water
No, they seemed to float on air
Closer still their faces hidden
Paralyzed we stood and stared.
As their bodies walked right through us suddenly the world changed
And it seemed that time expanded to include a wider frame.
Past and present then were blended and the meaning became clear
That our eyes observe a fraction of a larger world so near.
Soon the wind was gently blowing,
The boat began to move
Though our sight returned to normal,
Deep inside our souls were soothed.
A SONG OF MY OWN
Saturday, October 28, 2006
