These days you can pick up an oscilloscope from the app store for 69 pence.
It’s a far cry from the days I used to struggle to find a freestanding one which I could use to teach children about the nature of sound.
An oscilloscope can measure lots of signals electronically, representing them as an ever restless line on a dark screen.
The little line says it simply. Say your name, sing a tone, get the dog to bark in it, and the sound waves become a picture.
Most sound isn’t particularly pure. It produces a crazy, fuzzy line which draws the sound with a rough charcoal stick.
But every now and then you get a pure, steel-sharp frequency. And then the line becomes one. It is a laser-clear line and if we’re listening to it our ears vibrate in sympathy: deep in our cochlea we know it’s the real thing.
The purest tone one can get, in the real world away from electronic music, is a choirboy’s voice.
Way back when the world of electronic composition was a veritable Wild West, a man capitalised on the similarity between the frequencies in a boy’s voice and the pure electronic tone.
Karlheinz Stockhausen, it was, who divided the musical world with a piece of music which I find hauntingly beautiful, but others might label a monstrosity.
He recruited 12-year-old Josef Protschka to stand in a cathedral while he recorded him singing. And then he wove around it pure electronic tones and punctuated it with clicks. You can hear just a snatch of it here.
The sheer captivating beauty of a child’s voice: to me, he took that and moulded it to show us that pure sound is a thing of beauty. Others disagree.
Tonight I sent Maddie off to do her singing practice. And as I pottered around cobbling dinner together, my heart was captured once again by someone young singing.
It was a haunting Yiddish tune: ostensibly about about a 14th century king and his concubine.
Its words are devastating. It took Maddie a while to come to terms with them.
“On a wagon, bound for market, there’s a calf with a mournful eye;
High above him, there’s a swallow, winging swiftly though the sky.
“Stop complaining!” said the farmer, “who told you a calf to be?
Why don’t you have wings to fly with, like the swallow, proud and free?
Calves are easily bound and slaughtered, never knowing the reason why,
But whoever treasures freedom, like the swallow will learn to fly.”
Who would write something like this? It is brutal, even for an old folk song.
But it’s not a folk song. The words belonged to Russian Jewish poet Aaron Zeitlin, who was born in Homel, Russia, and fled to New York in 1939; and the music was written by renowned New York Jewish theatre composer, Ukraine-born Sholom Seconda.
And it was written in 1940, at the heart of the darkest of wars.
A heartrending metaphor, the beautiful young calf condemned as it sees a bird in the sky. How impotent must these proud little birds make one feel, as they wheel and swoop over high fences topped with barbed wire.
I knew none of this history when I began to listen to the melody, sung by a small, childlike, clear voice in the other room. But I could hear something deeply melancholy in the melody.
And now I know why.
That voice says it like nothing else can. And until now none of us have been able to put our finger on why young voices are so moving.
Now there’s someone trying to find out: Professor David Howard, from the University of York.
He’s trying to find out what that ‘it’ sound is.
He uses an anechoic chamber – one which prevents any sound being reflected – to record the voices of young volunteers and analyse the frequencies they are using.
He told BBC news:”If we can hear a difference, we should be able to see something that will show us what the acoustic attribute is that means that the brain hears it in that way.”
“In our experiments it looks as if that particular ‘ring’ is happening above the normal speech area, in the region up around 8,000 Hz, where there is something appearing when you get this really shimmery sound.
“It’s something that makes you sit up, it’s something that communicates with the soul. It’s way beyond the words, it’s way beyond the music, it’s something about the content going from the brain of a singer to the brain of a listener.”
Such voices are a spear to the spirit, and when they carry a message as powerful as the one my daughter was carrying the only recourse is to stop entirely what one is doing.
And listen.
Kate Shrewsday 
Fascinating post, and Maddie sings beautifully. But you’re right–the lyrics are devastating.
We couldn’t understand why, Kathy and then as we delved it became all too clear. Zeitlin’s words express it in a metaphor which is very powerful.
Really interesting, Kate. I’m glad you’re so inquiring and I get to read the results of your research – I’ve never heard that song but when you put the words into context it takes on an entirely different guise.
It just seemed a really strange choice to give a young girl to sing, Earlybird. There had to be more to it so we both looked into it….and Mad understands it much better now.
Very interesting that you should mention how the lyrics left such an impression on Maddie. I borrowed a Dubliners cd off my Dad the other day and listening to it was like living history through music. Whilst one song had me captivated with tales about the Gallipolie (Sorry don’t know correct spelling!) landings another made me think deeply with the lyrics ”Mary left to have a baby” and the same song made me lol when I heard the line ”Uncle Jimmys Wolfhound hasn’t had a pee in years !!! ” What a skill to be able to do that to a person all on the one cd ! They may not have the pure tones of the Choir boys but there is something about their writing that gets me.
I don’t know their stuff well enough, Trudie: must track them down and have a listen…sounds like they are masters!
Goosebumps, Kate.
The story and that melody had the same effect on me, Speccy…
Beautiful post, Kate, albeit hauntingly sad in places. And what a lovely voice Maddie has – thank you for including a link to her singing – may she treasure it! That’s the one gift I always wished for, but alas came stone last in the queue for 🙂
I love listening to children singing, Naomi – I’ve run a few kids choirs in my time. There’s an honesty and artlessness about their delivery. And when that is combined with a song like this, it makes you think hard about the story which sparked it.
Gorgeous, sad story. Like you, I love listening to children sing, but I never really put together the reasons why until this post. Thank you.
Maddie has such poise. I would’ve been giggling myself silly if I tried to record myself at her age. 🙂
😀 There are things about which Mad is solemn: she’s not really like other kids, least of all me when I was little. But she can be merry. When she laughs, she doubles up with mirth…
What a gift you give this day, Kate; your darling Maddie and her sweet voice. I will be humming Dona Dona all day, and you will be glad, I assure you, that you are nowhere near me as I am tone deaf. How beautiful this was!
Your post is provocative, making e want to learn more, which is what you do, dear Kate; you lead me to knowledge, for which I am grateful. I wonder what other songs came out of the holocaust, and they bring to mind the spirituals of the slaves, that still stand on their own today.
Well done and thank you.
I must admit I am drawn to find out more about that Yiddish Theatre movement on Second Avenue,Penny. There were four great composers of that movement: I have not even scratched the surface.
Extremely moving, Maddie’s voice and the lyrics. Thank you for the story behind the song.
You’re welcome, Banno 🙂
The purest tone one can get, in the real world away from electronic music, is a choirboy’s voice. Hear, hear, too beautiful!
Professor David Howard sounds like such an interesting guy with such an interesting job/hobby! Verrrry interesting…
Yup: hours in an echo-free chamber with some of the most beautiful voices available…I wonder what he will find in the end?
The lyrics when I read them didn’t ring a bell, but I realized, listening to Maddie, that I knew the song well. It took me a while to remember it was on an old LP I had of Joan Baez. I must have heard the song a hundred times – did I never listen to the words??? Or did I hear them the first time and then simply tune them out? (Unlike me, even in my younger days.) The melody itself is enough to haunt one’s dreams for a long time to come… and I think really it’s one of those songs that are best sung a capella. Maddie makes a wonderful job of it.
Thanks Ruth: it’s a good one for a young untrained voice, but the lyrics made me stop dead when she came to ask me for help with the rhythm. Must look for Joan Baez’s version, because the tune was incredibly familiar to me too, and I couldn’t work out why. I’d love to hear her singing it.
I found it here (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqzGZ5AaeSs) this morning, her ’60s version – don’t know if she made another.
Thanks Ruth!
This is a very interesting post Kate. Pure notes can also be found in the songs of Robins, Blackbirds, skylarks and Nightingales – it’s one of the reasons we are moved by them.
Your lyrics from the song lead me to look at what was in my music collection. Much beautiful but melancholic music came out of the suffering of the last european war – some of it very fine violin music. The works of Krasa and Haas, both of whom did not return from the concentration camps, are well worth a listen. Korngold’s violin concerto is very much a mourning for the lost and its tone is one of history and meloncholy.
On a happier note – Vaughan Williams’ ‘The Lark Ascending’ has to be one of the greatest pieces for the violin. I recommend the version by Iona Brown with Neville Mariner as conductor. It is one of the most beautiful pieces of classical music I have ever heard.
Sorry, waffled on a bit and wandered a bit off subject…
Not at all, Martin, a man after my own heart, what a fabulous comment, thank you! Time to listen anew to the birds outside: it’s a good thing the first two are with us during the winter. I have never listened to Krasa or Haas…I shall download some with all speed. Your birdsong observation leads me to think of Messiaen, his preoccupation with birdsong, and his Quartet for the End of Time, first performed in freezing temperatures using a battered old piano in front of a prison camp audience.
I adore Vaughn Williams. He speaks to our English hearts….must try the recording you suggest. Hope you don’t mind me saying, what a pleasure to talk music with one who knows it so well and loves it so much.
Thank you Kate for your kind response – please be aware that I am very much a heavy metal person – I am just as likely to talk about the virtues of Robin Trower and Burke Shelley as those of Jacqueline Mary du Pré, for example. But any introduction to music is like thowing a stone into a pond – your perspective moves ever outwards and I think it’s a great place for children to learn 🙂 Messiaen’s music is very beautiful and I will need to go and listen again to his work – thanks for the prompt.
You’re welcome 🙂
Interesting discussion! During my recent visit to England I picked up (at Car Boot for 20p) a CD ‘There is Sweet Music’ – Cambridge Singers – featuring Vaughan Williams with three Shakespeare Songs. I also heard, while driving along a narrow winding lane through a lovely copse, a Classic FM transmission of his ‘Greensleeves’ arrangement. It was really evocative. An Edward Bairstow arrangement of ‘North Country Maid’ on the CD really appealed to me, too.
He’s more-ish, Vaughn Williams. Somehow he manages to get those green and pleasant lands into his melodies.
Aah . . . one more reason to be happily vegetarian. 😀
Glad that Maddie is enjoying her voice, and hope that happier songs are right around the next bend in the clef. 😀
Yes. Lets make the next song about happier stuff….must have a quick word with that singing teacher….
First of all –
Maddie: Good job! You sound much more mature to my ears than I have been led to believe you are! Lovely voice. I would encourage you to keep singing. You have a lot to offer, and I could hear your heart in your voice. Thank you, and thank your Mom for posting it on Audioboo!
Now, Kate: Very interesting to read, and a revelation as far as the new study goes. I was a vocal performance/theater major in college, so things like this always interest me. A young boy soprano’s voice is very pure, and most often without a hint of vibrato. I spent a lot of time studying very early music – bith early renaissance and pre-renaissance. I remember being surprised to learn that vibrato is not a natural vocal affect, but must be learned. Since it is all we hear today (just about, and to a varying degree), it seems to be the way people learn very early on, as Maddie was showing hints of it as she sang. BTW – that’s not wrong nor bad!
However, early singers sang without vibrato, because they had no idea what it was, really! The first form of a vibrato-like effect was the “hocket,” in which a single note/word was stuttered, or rapidly repeated using a glottal stop. It is quite an odd sound, but pleasing in its own way within the context of the music. I don’t know at what time vibrato came to be used. I expect it happened with maturer voices, when the idea of castrating a boy so his voice would stay the same finally went out of regular use. As the voice ages, it becomes wobblier, but the wobble can be controlled, as it is using a vibrato. Some people have a vibrato that we used to joke about his or her vibrato being so wide, you could drive a truck through it! INHO, that sort is neither pleasing nor musical. Which is why I prefer lyric voices as opposed to dramatic ones – especially as regards the soprano! (And one (only one of many) of the reasons I abhor Wagner. His music requires dramatic sopranos. Ugh!).
My question to you is, does the same thing apply to girl soprano voices? Female voices tend to mature earlier than male, but as young girls, their voices have a similar purity. My hubs think there is a difference, but I don’t know if it’s because he is watching them sing and knows whether they are boys or girls, or what!
Anyway, great post, and I have joined Audioboo! What a great site and I had never heard of it. I suppose it is possible now that I can record all of my posts and bypass Sonya altogether!
I learnt about Audiboo through Stephen Fry. He uses it a lot….girl soprano voices: I guess that is what our York academic is going to find out. Traditionally – meaning, when I was attending music lectures many moons ago- the boys voice was meant to be purer – more focused. I guess that means that on an oscilloscope would show a more focused line with a boy than a girl. But these days we have choirgirls of the year: and I would swear that when Mad and Felix use the old scope, they have a very similar effect on the thin green line.
Not much help 😀
Thank Maddie for me for her recording! The melody is really beautiful.
The importance of hearing young voices in song – makes me understand a bit of what my aunt said to me after my sister and I sang at Dad’s memorial service – she smiled and said, “I didn’t know you could sing.” Her verbal communication is hampered by a stroke she had years ago, but as I remember her hand clasp and her eyes and the tone of her voice – I clearly recognized there was a bit of a scolding included – I had been holding out on the family for many years – and she, for one, would have been pleased to hear me when I was young – back when I was too timid to sing for anyone but the radio. It’s important to let our children know we love to hear them sing.
Patti, that was a rather wonderful comment. Singing is like dancing, I feel: it’s easy to feel foolish, to be worried about being tone deaf, but our hearts were made to sing, and us join in. So glad your aunt heard you on that day which was such a keystone moment for your family.
Always liked “Sounds of Silence” Simon & Garfunkel
Me too…
Singing is such healthy exercise, good for Maddie. Understanding the meaning behind a song is so important for performance. I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently. My mother was an opera singer, I came across some of her music, and realised from her notation just what some of the arias had meant to her too.
Thanks for sharing Maddie’s voice with us.
What a fantastic thing to be able to rifle through your mother’s old scores: they become like old friends, floppy at the edges, chronicles of a performance. Did you get to see her sing on the stage, Nuvofelt?
Very interesting, Kate. What confidence Maddie has!
(I can’t sing at all and used to be told to shut up at school! On the physics lab oscilloscope I seemed to produce a furry line, not a clear one at all!)
😀 Your creative talent headed for your pen, and that finger on the shutter, and the green fingers…..and all the other stuff…..
flattery will get you no-where, Ms Shrewsday.
😀 All true, Pseu, All true
I seem to have known that melody forever, but the lyrics had always escaped me. Poignant.
I’m sure my late mama (singing teacher trained in London who did radio broadcasts and who sang before Queen Alexandra) would have loved to coach Maddie. Great promise.
Sarah Brightman at her best had the same magic purity. I feel that in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Piu Jesu she actually upstages the choir boy. I think Julie Andrews had a similar aspect of purity to her voice, leaving aside her excellent diction?
Gracious, what a background: no wonder you’ve ended up composing! Sarah Brightman’s voice: divine 🙂 And Julie: well, they broke the mould….
We’ve spoken on the phone, Kate. Lovely blog, very interesting.
Great to hear M singing.
Love Dad
Lovely, isn’t it, Dad?
I know virtually nothing about singing voices — soprano, vibrato, etc. I just know what I like and Maddie’s song was lovely, her voice so steady and clear. I do hope she gets to sing some lighter, happier songs soon.
Me too, Piedtype 🙂 Thanks!
I remember playing the accompanyment for this back in the ’60s. I always thought it was an old folk song, but now the context makes so much more clear. And then no-one really understood the death camps and the sadness of being in transport bound to die.
I loved the song, and also in a funny way hated it because it gets under one’s skin and makes you uncomfortable, as it is obviously meant to do.
It does just that, Sidey, you’re quite right. And I guess the strong emotions run beneath not just the words but the melody too…