Pavarotti at Six O'Clock in the Morning
My husband, Hiromi, loves the singing of the Italian operatic tenor, Luciano Pavarotti. He once heard Pavarotti on television during his lunch break at the hospital where he worked at the time, and promptly purchased a recording of his. Mind you, my husband does not speak or understand Italian. In fact, "O Sole Mio" is about as far as Hiromi ever gets in singing the words of Pavarotti's songs. But he does that with great enthusiasm. He loves the powerful sound of that big man singing and worked for a long time to learn to sing the same high notes Pavarotti sings with such ease. But alas, the high E has always escaped his grasp.
At one time in our lives when everyone needed to get up around 6:00 A.M., Hiromi took to serenading the boys with his best Pavarotti rendition to wake them in the morning. At that time of day, the soaring notes and great volume were especially annoying, so no one really developed a love of Italian opera during that time.
And then one day we heard that Pavarotti was giving a concert in Wichita, a city within an hour's drive from our home. It was part of a tour billed as Pavarotti's final USA appearance before his retirement. Tickets were expensive, and we didn't buy any. But as the time came close, Hiromi confided in me that if he could just go hear Pavarotti, that would do for the whole year's gifts--father's day, birthday, Christmas--everything. I told him that would be fine with me, but I didn't want to have to mess with the details of buying the ticket. He happily did the legwork and found that the cheapest tickets were already sold, so he bought a $100.00 ticket. Only a few of those were left, plus a number of the $300.00 tickets.
Hiromi enjoyed the evening of the concert beyond his expectations. He got to sit in the front row, in a $300.00 seat. Beside him sat an elderly man, a native of Italy, who had brought his daughters to hear the music of his homeland. Throughout the concert, the elderly gentleman explained to his adult children what the words of the songs meant, and Hiromi got to listen in.
I learned later that in Italy, opera is not the music of the elite, but the equivalent of folk music in other countries. This explained to me why it has such a huge following, and so many lilting, singable melodies.
When Shane, our second son, began to take voice lessons, his teacher selected for him a book of Italian music to study and work on during and between lessons. Hiromi teased Shane about becoming the next Pavarotti--not likely since Shane has an unusually low bass voice--but Hiromi felt vindicated for the good judgement he showed by having introduced Shane early (in life and in the morning)to Italian music.
Hiromi has introduced all of us to many kinds of music we would likely never have learned about otherwise.
One evening we had dinner with a young farmer from France in the home of mutual friends. After supper, Hiromi asked the young man if he would sing a "Chanson," a type of solo characteristic of French music. The man obliged, and sang a lovely folk song and told us what it meant in English. Our host followed by singing a German song in the Gregorian chant style, and then Hiromi sang several Japanese songs--one in the old fashioned style now sung mostly by entertainers such as geishas, and one simple children's song about fireflies on a summer night. I still think of that night with pleasure.
More recently Hiromi has taken to listening to and singing Hebrew religious music. The last time he had a topic and the closing prayer in church, he sang the "Blessing of Aaron" or "The Aaronic Blessing" in Hebrew as the benediction. (He had the foresight not to tell the boys ahead of time what he was going to do.) He has a nice voice and is not too shy to use it in public.
Besides all these atypical musical interests, Hiromi has learned to sing four-part harmony as many Mennonites love to do. His fine ear, his natural curiosity, and his willingness to venture into unfamiliar territory have all stood him in good stead. It's been a privilege to accompany him on his musical journeys.
At one time in our lives when everyone needed to get up around 6:00 A.M., Hiromi took to serenading the boys with his best Pavarotti rendition to wake them in the morning. At that time of day, the soaring notes and great volume were especially annoying, so no one really developed a love of Italian opera during that time.
And then one day we heard that Pavarotti was giving a concert in Wichita, a city within an hour's drive from our home. It was part of a tour billed as Pavarotti's final USA appearance before his retirement. Tickets were expensive, and we didn't buy any. But as the time came close, Hiromi confided in me that if he could just go hear Pavarotti, that would do for the whole year's gifts--father's day, birthday, Christmas--everything. I told him that would be fine with me, but I didn't want to have to mess with the details of buying the ticket. He happily did the legwork and found that the cheapest tickets were already sold, so he bought a $100.00 ticket. Only a few of those were left, plus a number of the $300.00 tickets.
Hiromi enjoyed the evening of the concert beyond his expectations. He got to sit in the front row, in a $300.00 seat. Beside him sat an elderly man, a native of Italy, who had brought his daughters to hear the music of his homeland. Throughout the concert, the elderly gentleman explained to his adult children what the words of the songs meant, and Hiromi got to listen in.
I learned later that in Italy, opera is not the music of the elite, but the equivalent of folk music in other countries. This explained to me why it has such a huge following, and so many lilting, singable melodies.
When Shane, our second son, began to take voice lessons, his teacher selected for him a book of Italian music to study and work on during and between lessons. Hiromi teased Shane about becoming the next Pavarotti--not likely since Shane has an unusually low bass voice--but Hiromi felt vindicated for the good judgement he showed by having introduced Shane early (in life and in the morning)to Italian music.
Hiromi has introduced all of us to many kinds of music we would likely never have learned about otherwise.
One evening we had dinner with a young farmer from France in the home of mutual friends. After supper, Hiromi asked the young man if he would sing a "Chanson," a type of solo characteristic of French music. The man obliged, and sang a lovely folk song and told us what it meant in English. Our host followed by singing a German song in the Gregorian chant style, and then Hiromi sang several Japanese songs--one in the old fashioned style now sung mostly by entertainers such as geishas, and one simple children's song about fireflies on a summer night. I still think of that night with pleasure.
More recently Hiromi has taken to listening to and singing Hebrew religious music. The last time he had a topic and the closing prayer in church, he sang the "Blessing of Aaron" or "The Aaronic Blessing" in Hebrew as the benediction. (He had the foresight not to tell the boys ahead of time what he was going to do.) He has a nice voice and is not too shy to use it in public.
Besides all these atypical musical interests, Hiromi has learned to sing four-part harmony as many Mennonites love to do. His fine ear, his natural curiosity, and his willingness to venture into unfamiliar territory have all stood him in good stead. It's been a privilege to accompany him on his musical journeys.
posted by Mrs. I at
8:38 PM
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