I've been nominated to post 20 album covers in 20 days to Facebook. But I've been a little distracted lately. So I've failed the deadline. However, this seems a suitable distraction. The 20 album covers represent music that has had a significant impact on my life. No explanations or commentary is expected. However, this blog seems a suitable place to make a few comments and explanations on the album.
Allegri's Miserere
The first time I heard this piece of music I was driving over Kingston bridge. I had the radio on. The programme was Desert Island Discs. It was chosen by one of the guests. When I heard that boy soprano climbing to the high C I lost concentration and almost veered off the bridge.
I'd never heard anything like that before. The voice climbs to a plateau. Or like a bow pulling back a bowstring, holding an arrow - ready to release. And then the sudden release. Every time I play it, it takes my breath away.
Palestrina's Missa Papae Marcelli
The first time I heard this piece of music was at a party my mother threw in 1974 or 1975. Click here for a post that makes a passing reference to it.
In 1976 I became seriously ill with a rare autoimmune disease. Eventually, I was admitted to hospital for six weeks. There I was diagnosed, treated and returned home. Over the following few years, I experienced ever diminishing waves of the disease. Sometimes this required hospitalisation, sometimes I was sick at home - often for long periods of time. This meant I had to start and re-start college courses I was trying to complete. These years were unsettling and at times very stressful. One significant feature of this time was intermittent bouts of insomnia. It was pretty awful and I tried different ways to get off to sleep. None of them worked. Then one day I started listening to music all through the night. I was trying some way to distract my attention and release me into sleep. Eventually, one night, I played Palestrina's Missa Papae Marcelli. I must have bought it after hearing it at the party I've referred to earlier. And I fell asleep while it was playing. I slept most of that night.
The playing of the record when I went to bed became a regular habit, a routine, even a ritual. It worked every time I needed it. It was wonderful. But after awhile its power over me diminished.
I stopped playing Missa Papae Marcelli. Its hypnotic choral polyphony became too elaborate and the multitude of voices began to stimulate me rather than lull me off to sleep.
I didn't hear the name of Palestrina again until I went to Hatfield Polytechnique. That first year I shared a kitchen with Keith. And quickly we got on to talking about music. Click here for a link to a post where he's mentioned again.
Over the years I've realised I used music as a form of self-hypnosis. I've suffered from various bouts of insomnia and have found various pieces of music to help me and Katy to sleep. Click here for a post about my Sleep Music.
No comments:
Post a Comment