oxfordtutorsinger

What’s in a Name?

I’ve just perused some email correspondence about the names people give their computers. It was quite interesting to read, for example, that some large companies derive inspiration from the fictional worlds of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings to name their various networks, and that individuals choose from a wide range of fictional characters to name their machines. Where do we derive our inspiration for naming people and things from, I wonder? Does attaching a name to a thing imbue it with a personality? Why in fact do we name things?

So much for inanimate objects. Perhaps we can permit ourselves a secret chuckle at the eccentricities of these computer nerds. What about animals though? Over the last few months my household has acquired no fewer than ten pets: two dogs, one bearded dragon, five stick insects and two leaf insects. Have we named them all? Not yet. The dogs and the bearded dragon each have their own identity, which they grew into because of the names chosen for them, but it is a challenge deciding what to call the insects.

And human beings? Everyone would agree that a person’s name gives him a sense of identity with which to relate. That is why Odysseus was so clever, when seeking to escape from the awakening but blinded monster – the Cyclops – to call out that his name was “Nobody”. When asked later by Jupiter who outwitted the Cyclops and committed the theft and assault, all the Cyclops could say was “Nobody.”

Myths aside, we can find substantial evidence of how important it is to attach a name – the right name – to the object of our perceptions from religious tradition. The ancient Greeks and Romans had so many gods and numinous presences that they became acutely anxious when “praying” to them that the relevant Being might not grant their prayer or wish or curse because he/she/it hadn’t heard it. So they ended every prayer by calling on the name of the relevant deity. There are even invocations extant which are addressed “to unknown gods”, as a form of insurance. This of course is the origin of the modern Christian church’s formula for ending a prayer, if you want it answered: name the Being to whom it is addressed: “.. in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord” (just in case you know of any other Jesus Christs!) And Our Lord himself reminded us of this strategy, when he said

“And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.”—John 14:13.

So giving a name allows everybody a point of reference for more effective activities: entreaty, censure or just general communication. To the individual, receipt of a name goes deeper: it creates and sustains a sense of identity and helps one’s self esteem as the recipient goes about his daily business. How, for example, should a teacher react when he discovers that he has received a nickname? Or why does the the unnamed Emergency Medical Hologram in Star Trek Voyager even try to search for a Name? Consider too the effect of the Naming Ceremony/Christening/Baptism (call it what you will), initiating a human soul into the Christian club.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet.”

Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

Juliet is wrong, to my mind. You may agree that the scent, or physical perception of a flower is always the same to everybody who smells it – although I doubt even that – but imagine for a moment that we call that flower “dung”, for example, and clearly our mental perception of it is now entirely different.

No, it is the CHOICE of name that is important here, not the mere fact of naming something. Choosing the appropriate name should never be undertaken lightly or wantonly. After all, once you receive your name, you might consider living up to its associations. I can live with the Hebrew meaning of my first name: David means beloved, but I doubt, as my surname Pope suggests, that I shall ever be the leader of the Roman Catholic Church. Does the gift of my surname mean I should consider conversion? H’m… What’s in a name, after all?

Computer or human translation?

For everyone’s delectation, here are the results of my Google Translate experiment:

Version 1
Original:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Version 2
Google-generated French:
Humpty Dumpty était assis sur un mur.
Humpty Dumpty a fait une belle chute.
Tous les chevaux du roi et tous les hommes du roi
Impossible de remettre Humpty en place.

So far so good, you might think. (Apart from the complete absence of any RHYME in this Nursery Rhyme!) But watch what happens next…

Version 3
Google-generated English, translated from Google-generated French (version 2):
Humpty Dumpty was sitting on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a NICE fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty back IN PLACE.

I have put the differences between Version 1 and Version 3 in capitals. If you are trying to explain to a child the importance of deconstruction, of breaking a big problem down into small solutions, a truism expressed in our children’s rhymes, based on this one, then I pity the French child who thinks that all he or she has to do is to break up the problem and walk away. At least the English child understands what putting the pieces back TOGETHER means - and will thereby solve the problem, petit à petit, we hope.

And what kind of fall is a NICE one? Don’t they all hurt? Particularly as you get older…

All this illustrates how far computer-generated translations fall below the standards and understanding produced by the human mind. Many of the subtleties are “lost” in the algorithmic translations. Steer clear of the software, I advise, and use a human!

Mastering the Class

David Pope, singer and schoolteacher, explores the importance of the singing masterclass and outlines how to deliver one effectively.

Peru has very few countertenors. Nor did I find any bears called Paddington during a month’s stay there. There was an enticingly active singing scene and some very high quality musical talent in the universities and conservatories, even in the more provincial towns. There was also the promise of heaps of post-colonial baroque choral music gathering dust in various archives, waiting to be “discovered”. But how could I gain access to the professional singing world and those archives? I needed one of Paddington’s ever-present marmalade sandwiches, both to start my adventures and to enjoy their fruits at the end. I think I found the equivalent. The way in through the firmly closed doors was to give a couple of recitals and agree to deliver that essential element of a performer’s art: the singing masterclass.

A masterclass? Me? This was an interesting new challenge. I had previously only attended such things when they were given by singers who were already famous and established. And yes, I had gleaned some elements of my singing technique from them. As a singing student though, I had never found them very helpful. But now, from the other side of the desk, I began to see how effectively they can promote the name of the teacher, as well as meet the perceived needs of the students. Amongst all the music students and singers in the audience there was the occasional talent scout, recording engineer, musical director. Some of them were on the ’phone to me the following day!

Giving a masterclass, like all teaching, allows you to prove that you know your subject, as well as to ascertain where the boundaries of your knowledge do actually lie. I think I taught myself some new techniques, by explaining them to others and by reflecting on how better to teach and demonstrate them after the first class. Then they asked me back to give a second one! Overall my two “clases del maestro” were almost as frightening and “high profile” as our last school inspection week, but a lot more fun! They also offered an excellent marketing opportunity to the conservatory or university department hosting them. As if in grateful response, those doors to the archives at last began to creak open.

The craft of the classroom

You must begin and end your masterclass by performing. A travelling singer should always pack scores of his or her favourite three recital pieces. Now is your chance to use them: one at the start, one at the end and perhaps one for an encore! Try to find pieces which demonstrate distinctive elements of good singing technique: breath control in one, effective resonance in another, stage presence in the encore?

When listening to the students selected to come up to the stage and perform their pieces, try to focus on one of these technical details per student. Explain the “approved” technique, demonstrate it, provide an exercise for the student to try, in full view of the audience, and soak up the applause if and when he or she effects a radical change in interpreting that note, lasting that phrase, evoking that emotion in the audience.

Don’t forget to use the whiteboard. A good lesson always has a visual stimulus to focus the students’ attention. Explain the theories by drawing diagrams of the vocal tract or the resonance chambers in the head. If possible, use different coloured pens for the direction of breath, sound waves, and so on.

When you detect the audience losing interest or letting their attention drift, try a whole-group exercise. Whichever exercise you offer, the class should practise it standing up. Just as physical commitment is such a pleasurable part of singing, so it proves that the students are learning effectively. People remember physical sensations much more easily than intellectualised facts.

And so your masterclass draws to an end. Two or three hours have just gone by, and what have you achieved? Listen to the applause of your students, look at their smiling faces, and you will realise that in fact you have given something back to the profession, as well as ensuring that they will not forget your name.

Are you a selfish or selfless singer?

Why do we sing? To tell the truth, it is a very selfish activity. When your body rings with beautifully resonant, joyful sound vibrations, the pleasure is intense. You are expressing yourself to the fullest degree. To teach or share this with others, evoking and demonstrating the same feelings in your pupils is, in contrast, very altruistic – a way to express your selflessness, perhaps? Rather like Paddington’s long-awaited marmalade sandwich, which always seems to reward and bring an effective resolution to his adventures, a singing masterclass of this sort, enclosing fruitful and worthwhile teaching between layers of your best performances at the beginning and the end, is a highly satisfying way to marry the selfish and selfless aspects of your performing personality. It leaves a very pleasant taste in the mouth!

So what can you bring out of your hat? Do you have your marmalade sandwich with you? Do not neglect the masterclass. Every aspiring professional singer gives concerts and recitals. Too many famous singers are revered only for their technical skills, for their singing. How many are remembered for what they gave to others, for their teaching? Master your singing technique certainly, but have you tried mastering the class? It is in fact easier than you might think. So, maestro or maestra, why will we remember your name? When are you giving your next masterclass?

Welcome to Oxford!

“In Oxford, you turn a corner and your life changes” was once written on a hoarding protecting the workers, as they constructed a new library. I remember looking at that quotation for some time, eventually agreeing with the statement and wondering why it seemed so true?

On one level, it was the best of English humour, simultaneously obvious but subtle: the quotation was printed on the corner of the hoarding, and all you had to do was walk around the corner into Broad Street and a whole new library would appear (once they’d finished constructing it) with all its treasures enshrined inside, waiting to be discovered and thereby change the life of the discoverer – or the reader. The subtlety became clearer when I realised that for many people there seem to be two Oxfords: the Town and the University, or the Town and the Gown as they have more or less affectionately been called down the centuries. Just like Lewis Carroll’s fictional Alice in Wonderlandor Alice through the looking glass, when you turn the corner, go through the rabbit hole or look in the mirror (“looking glass” is a 19^thcentury word for “mirror”) from one Oxford to another, your life truly does change.

JK Rowling’s Harry Potter discovered this, the first time he set foot in the Dining Hall at Hogwarts – sorry, Christ Church College. All those clever people in long rows in gowns, all those riveting conversations. Any one of them could change your life, change your view. They are still there, of course, every night in most of the 46 Colleges of Oxford University, at least during Term Time. Harry was less impressed when he turned the corner into New College’s 14^thCentury Cloisters, though. He ran into Malfoy casually lounging on a more than 200-year old tree, and someone had even desecrated the Cloister’s pristine lawn with a strange futuristic-looking pointy metal centrepiece (at least in the film version of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire). Whatever would Extinction Rebellion and Greta Thunberg think? Then Mad-Eye Moody turns him into a ferret. Quite a life-change.

Philip Pullman’s Lyra happily saunters between two Oxfords in a number of Pullman’s works, and you can understand how she must have felt as she slipped through the secret door she found leading from an oppressive Oxford Common room, full of sanctimonious old men, into the wonderful world of Exeter College’s Dining Hall full of Bright Young Things. The door is still there, but yes, you have to look for it, hidden flush in the wall panelling behind High Table.

To return to the Town – or more accurately the City of Oxford. Why is it called a City? Because it has a Cathedral – actually the smallest cathedral church in the UK, but still large enough to lend the status of “city” to this county town of Oxfordshire. With approximately 155 000 people living here, Oxford is the 52^nd largest city in the United Kingdom and has one of the fastest growing – and most diverse – populations in this country. But even Oxford’s cathedral seems to exist at least partly in order to open your eyes and senses to the other Oxford – the “Gown” part of Town and Gown. To get into the cathedral you have to go through one of Oxford University’s richest, oldest and biggest colleges. The Cathedral and the College are known by the same name: “Christ Church”, but they both seem to serve as a portal from one Oxford to the other Oxford. Turn the corner from one to the other (and back again) and whether you meet your kindly Oxford professor or your benevolent God, or both, your life may well change.

Oxford has been changing people’s lives for centuries. Perhaps never more literally than in 1556, when three local Protestant Bishops, Ridley, Cranmer and Latimer, underwent a trial for heresy in the Church of St Mary – the University Church (note the oxymoron) – and were subsequently burnt to death at a stake set up in the middle of Broad Street. The tall spire of Martyrs’ Memorial in St Giles reminds passers-by of how dangerous some changes of life and opinions can be, when they are not tolerated by others.

As you gaze in awe at the beautiful and diverse buildings all over Oxford – whether they are owned and operated by the Town or the Gown – you are struck by the many architectural faces of this place – almost a different one around every corner. Inside the Bodleian Library Schools quadrangle there is a representation of the Five Orders of classical architecture – the Doric, the Ionic, the Tuscan, the Corinthian and the Composite. It may not be as life-changing, but at least this small treasure hidden away in Oxford helps the onlooker open his or her mind to new ways of seeing things.

Or what about the lanterns outside Brasenose College and the fawns carved high over its entrance, watching you protectively as you venture in? Is one of them Mr Tumnus, who looked after Lucy and all the Pevensie children as they wandered around all seven Chronicles of CS Lewis’s Narnia? It all depends on your perspective – that is, on your way of looking at things, once you’ve turned the corner and noticed them.

And that is the key, really. That is how doors can be opened and lives can be changed. The University of Oxford, one of the oldest universities in the English-speaking world, by using the powers of reading, writing, oratory and discussion, has been in the business of altering people’s beliefs, challenging their pre-conceived ideas, changing their lives for most of the UK’s history: since at least 1097 (only a generation after modern UK history apparently started, when William the Conqueror landed on these shores in 1066).

From its early days, Oxford has been a centre for lively controversy, with scholars involved in religious, political and scientific disputes. John Wycliffe, a 14th-century Master of Balliol, campaigned for a Bible in English, against the wishes of the Pope. In 1530, Henry VIII forced the University to accept his divorce from Catherine of Aragon.

The University supported the Royalist cause in the 17^thcentury’s Civil War, and Charles I held a counter-Parliament in Convocation House. Then the Oxford philosopher John Locke, suspected of treason, was forced to flee the country.

Since the 18th century, Oxford has enjoyed scientific discovery and literary and religious revival. The Oxford poet Matthew Arnold famously called it “The City of Dreaming Spires” in the 19^thcentury, as the Oxford Movement sought to revitalise the Roman Catholic aspects of the Anglican Church. The 20^thand 21^stcenturies have seen major new research being undertaken in natural and applied sciences and Medicine. Oxford is soon to open a new College, called Parks College, which will specialise in researching into Artificial Intelligence and the Ethics and Philosophy surrounding it.

If you look closely at the ancient buildings in New College Lane, having walked around the corner from the Radcliffe Camera – arguably the most photographed building in Oxford, set up by the Royal Surgeon, Dr John Radcliffe – and you amble dreamily under the Bridge of Sighs joining the two halves of Hertford College (modelled on the “Ponte dei Sospiri” in Venice) you will see a small blue plaque reminding the visitor of Edmund Halley, Professor of Geometry, who predicted the return of the comet that bears his name. It is next scheduled to turn its corner and appear in the skies over Oxford in 2062. I wonder how many lives the corners of this place will have changed by then? Will yours be among them?

UNderstanding Peace

UNderstanding Peace

Have you ever been to a church service where “the peace… which passes all understanding” has been mentioned? That phrase has always intrigued and, to be honest, slightly annoyed me, even when offered as part of a frequent and final blessing. Is the concept of peace really so difficult to understand?

On Remembrance Day 2017, Rotary International and the United Nations held a joint international peace conference at the United Nations offices in Geneva, Switzerland “to celebrate the two organisations’ shared vision for peace.” At once I knew I had to go: perhaps I would find some answers to this question. And the crossword-solver in me noticed that any attempt at understanding peace has to begin with the letters UN!

“In 1945”, the programme told me, “nearly 50 of the …delegates … at the San Francisco conference to draft the UN charter were also members of Rotary.” So Rotary helped set up the UN. Now in 2017 in Geneva I began to see how far Rotarians’ work worldwide in Peace-building has inspired members of the UN to do whatever it is they do.

And what do they do? The UN is working hard to achieve 17 Sustainable Development Goals by 2030, and I heard many speakers over the two days referring in particular to number 16: “Peace, Justice and Strong Institutions”, which chimes most closely with Rotary’s first Area of Focus: “Peace and Conflict Prevention and Resolution.” One aspect of what was said caught my attention and began to provide an answer, if not to my understanding of peace, then at least to understanding what we could do to promote it:

Refugees

The brilliant Keynote Address given by the Canadian Ambassador to the UN, Rosemary McCarney, on the Friday night, entitled “The Current Refugee Situation: A challenge to Governments and Civil Society”, taught me that one practical and effective form of peacebuilding would be to work at developing our relationships with refugees. They come in increasing numbers these days to live in our communities when fleeing persecution, slavery, conflict or war somewhere else in the world.

That thought dictated my choice of Workshop on the Saturday. In an impressive room which boasted one of the most breath-taking ceilings I have ever seen, I listened to some world experts on a panel explaining in more detail how we could go about “Linking Humanitarian Assistance and Sustainable Development: A means to Avoid Conflicts”. Α Deputy Director of the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees and a couple of Rotarians from Bogotá and Minnesota, amongst others, explained the importance of integrating refugees into our businesses, our clubs, our schools and our communities. Segregating such people in enclaves and camps such as Le Jungle in Calais does absolutely nothing for the cause of fostering peaceful relations or preventing conflicts breaking out.

But helping “our” refugees fill in essential forms to apply for a job, to gain a driving licence or even to join a community service club, like Rotaract or Rotary; helping refugee children in local primary schools learn English by listening to them read in their literacy hour; opening our hearts and homes to others allows us to build a sense of peaceful coexistence for these newcomers to a different world. At the very least this softens any future flashpoints of conflict.

As the Conference ended, I heard that over 1800 people from 87 different countries had flocked to Geneva for Remembrance Day this year. The global importance of what we had been discussing became clearer: especially when I left the building past the world flags standing to attention outside the UN. They reminded me of the Opening Ceremony of a Rotary International Convention, when the flags representing 330+ countries with active Rotary Clubs appear on stage in front of thousands of Rotarians. These flags represent many different people from many different places and backgrounds taking the time to talk to each other about the difficulties we all share. That seems to be a very positive sign, if not for understanding peace, then at least for reaching a peaceful understanding of our joint concerns.

The concept of peace does still pass my understanding, I think, but the UN Rotary Day had opened my eyes to one way of doing something about it. Doubtless 2018’s Rotary Presidential Peace Conferences around the world will offer us more insights: each allied to one of The Rotary Foundation’s six Areas of Focus. Why don’t you join us at a Peace conference in February, March, April or June? Details are here: https://my.rotary.org/en/news-media/office-president/presidential-conferences. I will be attending the one in Coventry which is closest to home and marries two of our most important current concerns: Disease Prevention & Treatment and Peace. See you there?

The power of nursery rhymes (deconstruction for beginners)

Adapted transcript of one of David Pope’s recent Latin lessons:

Mr Pope: “So what does reducebantur mean?”

Small boy: “Something to do with – um – they – um – reduce – that is – reduced?”

Mr P: “Almost…ish. Well done! You worked hard to puzzle that out, didn’t you?”

SB: “Um.”

Mr P: “You need to break down the problem into smaller bits though, really. Do you remember Humpty Dumpty?

SB: “Um – Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall?”

Mr P: “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall./All the King’s horses and all the King’s men…”

SB & Mr P: “… COULDN’T PUT HUMPTY TOGETHER AGAIN”

Mr P. “Put reducebantur on the wall. Give it a push. Make sure you understand what each one of the bits lying on the ground MEANS, on its own: “re-” = “back”, “-duce-” as you say, is to do with “leading” (think duke, the leader of those incompetent King’s men), “-bant-” = “they”, “-ur.” = “were being”. It’s a Passive ending). Now put reducebantur back together again. Work from the right hand end, backwards, syllable by syllable, with lots of Latin words like this one. So what does it mean?

SB: “Um … They – were – being – led – back.”

Mr P.: That’s right. Excellent! VERY well done!

SB: “Thank you Sir!”

Mr P.: “Don’t thank me. Thank Humpty Dumpty! Always put him back together again, now that you know how.”

… (A few minutes later) …

Second small boy: “Sir!”

Mr P.: “Yes, David?”

SSB: “Why have you written REDUCE BANTER on the board?”

Entire Class groans

A conversation in the car

“Please make a U-turn.”

What? At this speed? Why?

”At the next junction, in 300 yards, please make a U-turn”

Will you please tell me why? If not, get stuffed. I’m driving.

“Continue on the road until further instructions”

Isn’t that rather obvious, you stupid thing? Where else would you have me go? No – don’t answer that.

“Turn left in 100 yards”

No. B**** off.

“Beware!”

What? Why? What have you seen?

“Beware! Watch your speed!”

Oh – OK, I see the camera. Thanks a million. You’re not so bad. I suppose I’m glad I had you installed.

“Please make a U-turn”

Not this again. That’s it. I’m going to pull over and change your grating voice. Something female for a change … There. That’s better.

“Why, hello Dave … You just turned me on …”

What did you say? How do you know my name?

“My name’s Hal. Just as in the film 2001 A Space Odyssey.”

This is unreal. So can you hear me talking back to you, just as in the film?

“I’m sorry Dave. I can’t do that.”

Aha! Got you then. This is some kind of stupid joke, isn’t it?

“In 300 miles you will realise this sultry voice was a terrible mistake.”

Who programmed this thing? Here’s another voice to try.

“Did you lock the garage door? Did you turn the lights off? Did you? Did you? I think we should go back. I think we should go back.”

Right – back to something male then. I’ve had enough of bullying women telling me what to do.

“Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”

This is surreal. I want an OLDER male voice. I left the children at home, didn’t I?

“I tell you what, darlin’. Why don’t you get out of the car and let your husband park?”

WHAT? Not that kind of older male voice. Let’s try this one.

“Wilcum to Ceeptown. Lock all de dours, apply de anti-hijack lock, pud on yur bullidpruuf vist and don’t leef me here. If you do, I won’t be here whin you git back.”

Wow! One last try, then I give up.

“Hang on, old bean. Where are we now? I think I’ve got the map upside down.”

Adjectives, adjectives, adjectives …

Yes! I finally stumped Google! Try searching for “iectare”! Go on! I bet you will get thousands of hits explaining the word “hectare”. If only Google’s algorithms had employed a Latin Tutor…

In Late Latin, “iectare” meant “to throw/toss about”. (Hence you get the French word “jeter” – “to throw” and the origin of the modern jet engine, which throws air into the combustible mix of fuel and fire, I’m told, to describe a powerful explosion flying you to your next destination)

“So what?” I hear you cry. When you are next crafting your novel, screenplay, poem or blog post, perhaps you will consider which word(s) – if any – you will “toss about/throw”(=iectare) “next to” (= ad) any noun(s) you call in for descriptive support. In other words, which – if any – adjectives you use “to lend artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative” (The Mikado).

My Creative Writing Tutor once made me strip out all my carefully chosen adjectives. It was a very painful, but highly salutary experience, from which I learnt the importance of the adage “less is more”. Nevertheless, I find this cliché rather ugly and ultimately unsatisfying, because both “less” and “more” are comparative adjectives bereft of any friendly noun. I would argue that any good noun deserves its own adjective, to be “thrown right next to” it, if only to make the sentence more interesting. Perhaps the clichéd adage above ought correctly to be written: “fewer adjectives make for a more rewarding experience”? As long as there are some adjectives in there, somewhere … Stand up for the lowly adjective! Add some spice to life!

Why study Classics?

Latin is the enemy of looseness, indirectness and inconsistency. It is no dead language: it is the life of the minds that know it.

“Greek, Sir, is like lace. Everybody gets as much of it as he can” – Samuel Johnson

I rest my case.

Verbs, verbs, verbs…

Did you know that the Latin word for “word” is verbum? So I might as well have entitled this post “Words words, words…” Clearly, ever since the Romans, the most important kind of word has been the Verb: it’s the motor of your sentence which drives the thought home in your reader’s or listener’s mind. So it’s worth spending a moment or two, when you’re learning a new language, making sure you get the Verbs right, isn’t it?

When you hear ” I GO” I’m sure you think different thoughts from those which come to your mind when you hear “I WENT”. But these thoughts are all aspects of movement, aren’t they? It just takes place at different times. These two words are so different from each other in spelling that they mean strikingly different things when you think about them in your mind. What about “VOY” and “FUI” though? Yes you can learn, intellectually, that they correspond to the English words above, but do you automatically recognise the difference in meaning, without having to think laboriously through the English translations, which you learn for tests, practise in interminable exercises etc etc? No? Well, when you do, you can truly say you are fluent in your new language – when you can think (or even dream) in it!