Dorian and I recently took the rhythmic ideas from Music In Motion outside. Using chalk we drew a line of shapes on the pathway.
The hearts represent the beat and the ovals are footsteps. We took it in turns to walk the Stepping Path; first clapping a heartbeat; then listening to the heartbeat track; and finally listening to music with a strong, steady beat.
Two footprints mean Jump!
Jumping takes two beats, so leap over one heart.
For a Stomping Path, we added a circle every four heartbeats.
In standard music notation, the four-beat whole-note is also an unfilled circle.
Finally, a Running Path. Two quick steps for each heartbeat.
Next, we will combine the notes into more complex rhythms, but, for now, Dorian is feeling the groove of different music in his whole body and letting it guide his movements.
Music can have a very powerful effect on our bodies. We tap our feet, nod our heads, drum our fingers, sway, leap, twirl, stomp, flex, and wave our hands in time to its pulse. Even in the rarefied atmosphere of a concert hall, where the audience is expected to remain respectfully still and silent, our breathing and heartbeat synchronize with the music. Sound and movement are so closely intertwined, some languages have just one word meaning both music and dance. In I Got Rhythm, I introduced four note-lengths based on familiar bodily movements. I then called them Breathe, Jump, Walk, and Run, but have since reassessed and now prefer Stomp, Jump, Step and Run. ‘Step’ sounds better than ‘Walk’ when said aloud repeatedly and, while breathing is a good timekeeper, stomping is a gross-motor skill and thus consistent with the others. Also, stomping is much, much more fun!
So, here is how I like to introduce the four note lengths to young children…
Earlier this week, during circle time at Dorian’s pre-school, the teacher asked, “Who are the little, imaginary men who dress in green and leave gold at the end of rainbows?” Not entirely incorrectly, a five-year-old near me shouted, “Irish!”
St. Patrick’s Day is upon us and it’s a great time for music. Most of the music I’ve played since childhood has had some Celtic or traditional folk influence and I find Irish tunes among the most fun and challenging to play. In Irish music, everything is dictated by the melody. The tunes are long streams of notes, flowing and darting about, at a more-or-less constant rate. By varying the volume and ‘attack’ of individual notes, depth can be created as the listener hears louder notes join together to create their own melodies and internal rhythms. Fast flurries of sound called ‘ornaments’ can be spun around certain notes of the tune, creating ripples and eddies in the melodic flow. Musicians can play tunes differently each time, creatively using ornamentation to highlight various parts of the melody.
Here are three videos to help you celebrate those mythical creatures, the Irish…
The first is a series of four tunes played back-to-back to form what it called a set. On the fiddle (‘violins’ are for classical music) is virtuoso Martin Hayes with Dennis Cahill on guitar. Beautiful tone and great fiddle playing with a deft backing by the guitar.
Here’s a short clip from an inimitable group of musicians, The Dubliners. Not only is this great novelty and impressive playing, it is also a vivid lesson to anyone in a band, orchestra or even a duo: playing music together is all making ONE sound, not several at the same time. I think about this silly performance often.
The last video is a set of three tunes played for the kids at Dorian’s wonderful pre-school, Kiddie Kampus in Alameda. I’m playing the mandolin and all the other musicians are parents, none of whom has a background in Irish music. What an amazing job they did! We had a lot of fun putting the tunes together and the kids loved dancing, clapping and spinning along. A good time was had by all, and if that’s not the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day, I don’t know what is. Cheers!
As an Englishman in America, I get daily reminders of how the two countries are, in the words of Shaw, ‘separated by a common language’. Musical terms are not immune, and none are more fundamental than the names used for note lengths. Semi-breves, minims, crotchets and quavers divide musical time in Britain. As a child, I aspired to fast semiquavers and faster demisemiquavers. There was also – in theory, at least – a hemidemisemiquaver, and a beguiling, yet improbable, semihemidemisemiquaver. (Presumably this ironic sequence continues indefinitely; ever longer words representing ever shorter time). Compared to the eminently sensible way by which Americans name their notes (whole-notes split into, half-, quarter-, and eighth-notes, etc) the British system is a mess.
Dorian has a simple CD player in his room and a case filled with CDs. Like many, I rarely use CDs anymore, but I’m keen for him to have the freedom to listen to music without help or supervision. Tangible discs seem to make more sense to him, anyway. Whenever he and I search playlists on the computer, he always wants the albums without artwork or else makes completely random requests. Flipping through his CD holder, he can link the color and design of each disc with his memory of its musical content and make a choice. At bedtime, choosing and listening to music is as much a part of Dorian’s nightime ritual as brushing teeth or haggling over the number of books to be read. He will often choose the same CD for days, even weeks, on end, and I have learnt not to interfere. Dorian’s tastes are somewhat eclectic and somewhat random – a function of being comprised of Kelly’s favorites growing up and my acquisitions in the seven years since moving to the US. Somehow he’s been drawn to Bob Dylan’s Love and Theft; an album from Celtic band, Anam; the soundtrack to The Phantom of the Opera; “Daddy’s Band”; A Morrissey offering from the late ’90s; Debussy; and an untitled Thelonious Monk CD (left in my brother-in-law’s car by joyriders when they fled, along with Celine Dion and The Best of the Village People. Oakland is many things, but predictable is not one of them). When he chooses a single song, it’s invariable XTC’s “Senses Working Overtime” or “Pumped Up Kids”, a four-year-old’s interpretation of “Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People. Lurking amid his collection – which I now realize needs more thought – are several CDs aimed squarely at children…
