Music has played an important role in many of our discussions of epiphany, and as this semester has progressed, other themes have begun to connect themselves to these concepts for me. I have been performing my entire life. I have sung the National Anthem professionally for as long as I can remember, had the privilege to be involved in various opera companies and musical theatre productions, competed in a variety of vocal contests, etc. Music is a language unto itself, and it can be understood and interpreted by so many and in so many ways. Music has connected with the way that I have read for many years, but in my own mind, as themes are brought up, a repertoire of music surfaces as well.
As I have been working on my group project (Little Gidding), the image of a rose is seen in many different forms. Roses have played a very important role in my singing career, and last year when I had thought about throwing in the towel, I had an ‘Ah’ moment because of a rose. It was in an upper division choral music instruction class here at MSU that I sang a song that reignited my passion for music. It revived my love for performing and for sharing that part of myself. For this class, I was asked to sing a song titled ‘No Flower that Blows’ by Thomas Linley. The lyrics are as follows:
No flow’r that blows is like, is like this rose,____ No flow’r that blows____ is like this rose, Or scatters such perfume, or scatters such perfume; No flow’r that blows is like, is like this rose,___ no flow’r that blows___is like, is like this rose: Upon my breast, ah! Gently rest___And ever, ever bloom, and ever, ever bloom. No flow’r that blows is like, is like this rose,___ no flow’r that blows___ is like, is like this rose, Dear pledge__ to prove a parent’s love, A pleasing, pleasing gift___ though art; Come, sweetest flow’r, and from___ this hour Live hence-forth in my heart, live hence-forth in my heart. No flow’r that blows is like, is like this rose,___ no flow’r that blows___ is like, is like this rose.
In the lyrics there specifically is an ‘Ah’ moment, but that was not my epiphanic moment. Mine came when I, at one point, crescendoed and ritarded as my voice climbed the scale. The point was so thoughtful and meaningful in the lyrics, that there were many comments that followed the song about that section; however, I felt those emotions too. I was no longer the speaker in the song singing about her love. I was singing about my love. The rose became my music. The rose is my love.
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