What’s the Buzz? Make a Joyful Noise
Make a Joyful Noise
Mama always said she couldn’t carry a tune in a paper bag. Still, it is the sound of that voice singing lullabies that serenaded 6 children. We never noticed if her pitch was perfect or if she was on tune. The Toora loo ra loora of her “Irish Lullaby” sang her babies and her grandchildren to sleep.
As a minister’s wife, she had little room to be prideful about anything, but she did love to sing and her feelings were hurt when the choirmistress in the new church where Papa was posted refused to let her sing with the choir. She sang softly at the audition and thought maybe she could just be part of it and stay in the back. The woman wasn’t even kind to her. She just said “Ruth, you should never sing anywhere in public and I’d be careful about singing in the shower if I had that voice.”
Papa wiped her tears, danced her around the dining room, and insisted that “the Bible says make a ‘Joyful Noise’, it doesn’t say you must be able to sing on key.” So every Sunday, in her best dress, Mama stood proudly singing out every hymn with all her heart from the congregation, not the choir loft. Some of the ladies turned up their noses but she held her head high and pretended not to hear the comments. She sang in the car, she sang in church and she sang to the children. Sometimes our old hound dog Tonto sang along.
Historian Stephen Pile ranked Florence Foster Jenkins "the world's worst opera singer". "No one, before or since," he wrote, "has succeeded in liberating themselves quite so completely from the shackles of musical notation."
What Mr. Pile failed to realize is that Florence (July 19, 1868- November 26, 1944) was a woman ahead of her time. She often said that she would die without music. At 18, Florence Foster Jenkins married a man who was, as she gently called him, “a rake.” She contracted syphilis on her wedding night. Survival in those days was counted in handfuls of years, not decades Florence sang in Carnegie Hall, with spirit and pluck, an irresistible personal magnetism. The recording of the “worst” opera singer ever became the best selling record on the DECCA label and the most requested audio at Carnegie Hall is still the record of her one performance.
Studies show that when a person sings, musical vibrations alter their physical and emotional landscape. This elation may come from endorphins, a hormone released by singing, associated with feelings of pleasure. Or it might be from oxytocin, another hormone released during singing, which has been found to alleviate anxiety and stress. Oxytocin also enhances feelings of trust and bonding, which may explain why still more studies have found that singing lessens feelings of depression and loneliness.
Studies have also linked singing with a lower heart rate, decreased blood pressure, and reduced stress, according to Patricia Preston-Roberts, a board-certified music therapist in New York City. She uses song to help patients who suffer from a variety of psychological and physiological conditions. This ancient art not only feels good, it can enhance your well-being, reduce your feelings of pain and even prolong your life.
So like my Mama and Florence, if you ever have the desire to break out into song -- in the shower, in the car, maybe at an infamous karaoke night -- you should embrace it wholeheartedly. Sing out, sing often and remember that the pets and children and people that love you best are happy to hear you making a ‘joyful noise.’
As Florence Foster Jenkins said “People may say I couldn't sing, but no one can ever say I didn't sing. “
The links below will connect you to the song stylings of Florence Foster Jenkins and some of the many articles on the benefits of singing, alone or in a group.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtf2Q4yyuJ0
United States
About this blog:
What's the Buzz" covers what's happening, what might be happening, and what should be happening in the opinion of the author.
Eleanor Cade Busby is an unpublished award-winning writer, photographer and blogger & simply loves writing about herself in third person.She published this absolutely all true bio.
Busby grew up all over New England,a preacher's kid who set out to destroy every single stereotype about a "Minister's Daughter."
She attended Goddard College, The Rhode Island Conservatory of Music and The School of Life, majoring in everything she could stuff into her head. She once had her own office and a red stapler. Her employees learned quickly never to touch it.
Much of her very long life has been spent on or back-stage at theaters. She penned a couple of plays, directed many more and acted in scores of productions. She's done it all except hanging lighting. You can't make her climb a ladder.
She won awards locally & nationally for social services and customer care. Most recently she was awarded the PEN/Toni and James C. Goodale Freedom of Expression Courage Award along with 3 million of her closest personal friends for "galvanizing a potent global movement to resist infringements on the rights and dignity of women and many other groups."
Busby has been a theater, art and dance reviewer and commentator for several publications, including CRACKED magazine.
Opinionated, obstinate, much-abused, and under-appreciated, she believes that if it isn't funny or relevant, it isn't worth it.
Eleanor Cade Busby lives in Midcoast Maine with two cats who like to stand on her head at 3 AM demanding a sacrifice, often her sanity.
Suggestions for topics and comments are always welcome at eleanorcadebusby@hotmail.com