One of the greatest pleasures of being a voice teacher (and I’ve said it before) comes in those moments when we get to introduce a student to a special piece of music from our own past – and it’s especially exciting the very first time that a particular piece of music gets shared in this way. I still remember when I gave my student Nick Barootian the fiendishly challenging “Songs of the Wayfarer” by Gustav Mahler … or gave Nic Sluss-Rodionov “Why do the nations so furiously rage,” perhaps the single most intimidating aria from Handel’s Messiah. In both cases, it was the first time that I had ever felt comfortable assigning those exceptionally difficult songs to a student….. songs that had been important songs for me in one way or another. It’s the kind of moment that makes the teacher-student relationship feel almost like that of an apprenticeship – or a passing of a short.
I am experiencing that particular pleasure once again by sharing with a student for the very first time an amazing song by 20th century British composer Gerald Finzi titled “Clock of the Years.” My personal history with this song dates all the way back to the fall of 1980, which was the beginning of my junior year at Luther. This was actually one of the hardest periods of my time there because I was experiencing (for the first time in my life) some significant trouble with my singing – specifically some major intonation difficulties that I now suspect had something to do with how big my voice had become. I simply could not sing in tune towards the top of my range – especially middle C and higher – with any consistency at all. More often than not those tones would be ever so slightly under the pitch- but just enough to be noticeable. It caused me no end of consternation- and in fact led to a crushing disappointment when the list of that fall’s Messiah soloists was posted and my name wasn’t on it. (I had been a soloist the year before.) My teacher at the time, David Greedy, said that I needed to stay calm and work methodically and patiently through the issue – and we began preparation for the NATS competition later that fall and my junior recital to follow thereafter.
At some point in the midst of all that turmoil, Mr. Greedy shared with me the music to a song that he thought I might really enjoy exploring – the aforementioned “Clock of the Years.” I had never ever encountered a song like this; it was as theatrically dramatic as any opera aria, and it was a song where I could actually unleash my voice with full ferocity. (Most of the time, Mr. Greedy seemed bent on curbing my tendency to rattle the rafters, and would give me songs that demanded much more control and nuance than power.) I had no conscious sense of it at the time, but in retrospect I believe that Mr. Greedy gave me this song because he knew I was wounded and that this song just might be the ticket to restoring my confidence. And it did. Grappling with the vocal and expressive challenges of this song compelled me to work much harder than I ever had before – and I found myself Falling In Love With Singing all over again. And this remarkable song was central to that. In fact, it was chiefly because of this song (I strongly suspect) that I somehow I was able to win first place in NATS competition for the third year in a row. And later in the school year, it was one of the centerpieces of my junior recital with Annette Kirkpatrick. (On my Listen page, you can hear what it sounded like.)
The song comes from a set of ten songs titled Earth And Air And Rain, in which Finzi sets the texts of his favorite poet, Thomas Hardy. In “Clock of the Years,” a grief-stricken widower approaches a mysterious and powerful Being – the song’s namesake – and asks for time to be turned backward so his wife can be alive again. It can be done, he is told, but only the Clock of the Years can determine how far back time will pass. The man agrees – and as time begins moving backward, his wife reappears, alive again! He asks for time to stop right there – it’s perfect! – but the hands of time keep moving backwards. The woman grows younger and younger – through adolescence, childhood, infancy – until she winks out of existence altogether. And in that moment, the realizes to his horror that all of his memories of her and their time together have also winked out of existence. He protests to the Clock of the Year, which coldly replies that it was the man’s own foolish choice “to mar the ordained.” It’s an amazing text, and Finzi marvelously conveys its horror and heartbreak. And for me as a young singer, it was one of the first times when I really figured out that singing could be about so much more than just pouring out a flood of gorgeous sound. (It’s not that I hadn’t been told that time and time again, both by Mr. Greedy and by my incredible first voice teacher, Cherie Carl. But it was really with this Finzi song that I finally came to believe that and understand that on a whole new level.)
And now, I have shared that same song with one of my sophomore music majors, Austin Merschdorf. It’s not just that Austin has a voice that reminds me of my own back then- but it’s also that Austin, much more so than I did at his age, already understands the expressive aspect of great singing and longs to deepen and broaden his already considerable gifts in that regard. And I can sense already from the two lessons we have spent on this song that “Clock of the Years” will unlock new possibilities for Austin that I can’t wait to explore.
All this is just one more reminder that I have SO much to be thankful for …. not only that I get to teach fine young singers like Austin (and Christian …. and Peter …. and Matt …. and Jordan …. and Isaiah and so many others) who are talented, eager to learn, and appreciative – but also that I get to spend so much of my waking hours engaging with superb music and texts, including some of the most astounding masterworks ever created.
Masterworks like “Clock of the Years.”