The Microphone Episode

Spring intro

“Welcome, my friends, to The Microphone Episode. Yes, this is the one where the.  greatest composers of all time—individuals who shuffled off their mortal coil long ago—are handed a microphone for the very first time.

Now you might also think of this episode as a promo or the introduction to the majority of the episodes in October where I take a deep dive into the life and music of approximately 25 noted classical musicians prior to 1900. Before I actually start, I wanna talk a little bit about the challenges involved in doing such a program.

First, was the actual writing of the transcript for each podcast episode. I would read about and do research regarding each musician. Then I would know what questions to ask ChatGPT to give me a more interesting answer. For example, if I just asked ChatGPT to tell me about Beethoven - it really wouldn't have that much to go on - but if I specifically asked if Beethoven wrote any letters regarding his hearing loss, then it could give me some very useful answers.  In fact, in one of the most moving documents in all of music history, Beethoven wrote in a letter to his brothers Carl and Johann in October 1802. He was only 31 at the time, but his hearing loss was advancing, and he poured out his despair, frustration, and longing for life and art. He never sent the letter—it was found among his papers after his death in 1827.

[Closing music – Spring from The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi, Performed by John Harrison,. Source: Wikimedia Commons - CC BY-SA <//commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vivaldi_ _Four_Seasons_1_Spring_mvt_1_Allegro_-_John_Harrison_violin.oga>,License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording)

Ghost Entrance: Source: https://www.zapsplat.com/page/6/?s=ghost&post_type=music&sound-effect-category-id

https://zapsplat.net/zapsplat-sounds/download.php?fileName=sound_design_texture_ghostly_pass.mp3&expiry=1601608139,LLicense: Creative Commons.

“Vespro Della Beata Vergine/ Deus In Adiutorium - Domine Ad Adiuvandum”, by Claudio Monteverdi, Performed by Schwäbischer Singkreis; Hans Grischkat, Source: https://dn721902.ca.archive.org/0/items/lp_vespro-della-beata-vergine_claudio-monteverdi-schwabischer-singkredisc1/01.01.%20Vespro%20Della%20Beata%20Vergine%3A%20Deus%20In%20Adiutorium%20-%20Domine%20Ad%20Adiuvandum.mp3. License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording)  0:00-00:30.

Transcript

Spring intro

“Welcome, my friends, to The Microphone Episode. Yes, this is the one where the.  greatest composers of all time—individuals who shuffled off their mortal coil long ago—are handed a microphone for the very first time.

Now you might also think of this episode as a promo or the introduction to the majority of the episodes in October where I take a deep dive into the life and music of approximately 25 noted classical musicians prior to 1900. Before I actually start, I wanna talk a little bit about the challenges involved in doing such a program.

First, was the actual writing of the transcript for each podcast episode. I would read about and do research regarding each musician. Then I would know what questions to ask ChatGPT to give me a more interesting answer. For example, if I just asked ChatGPT to tell me about Beethoven - it really wouldn't have that much to go on - but if I specifically asked if Beethoven wrote any letters regarding his hearing loss, then it could give me some very useful answers.  In fact, in one of the most moving documents in all of music history, Beethoven wrote in a letter to his brothers Carl and Johann in October 1802. He was only 31 at the time, but his hearing loss was advancing, and he poured out his despair, frustration, and longing for life and art. He never sent the letter—it was found among his papers after his death in 1827.

What follows is a passage (in English translation) that captures his anguish:

"O you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause. From childhood on my heart and mind were disposed to the gentle feeling of goodwill, and I was ever inclined to accomplish great deeds. But think only that for six years I have been hopelessly afflicted, made worse by senseless physicians, cheated year after year in the hope of improvement, finally compelled to face the prospect of a lasting malady... Though born with a fiery, active temperament, even susceptible to the diversions of society, I was compelled early to withdraw myself, to live life alone. If at times I tried to rise above all this, oh how harshly was I repulsed by the doubly sad experience of my bad hearing... such incidents brought me close to despair; a little more and I would have put an end to my life—only my art held me back. It seemed impossible to leave the world until I had produced all that I felt was within me."

That last line—“only my art held me back”—has become iconic. It shows how creativity, for Beethoven, was literally the thing that kept him alive when despair nearly overwhelmed him.

But I digress … obviously writing a script or transcript is an important part of doing almost any podcast episode.

Not surprisingly with the subject matter for October, music was also an essential element of the episodes.  At first it was incredibly tedious to go from one website to another often running into one broken link after another or getting messages that I had run over my allotment for the day, and then ask me to pay big bucks to get more files.  To be honest, my first reaction was how do I really know that such and such a file it's worth my time and effort, or am I just throwing my money away - because some of the files I ran into were really, really bad or just simply led nowhere.

And it took me several weeks to comfortably get the hang of attribution - giving credit to a music file and the proper way.  And I would even run into sites that - for example. - had classical music performed by the New York Philharmonic recorded 1966 percentage is OK to use.  I learned that classical music might be in the public domain when it was written before 1923 - the cut off date in the United States for most music.  But the actual performance in that case was most definitely copyright, and it would be illegal for me to use the recording.  Of course I could go on and on talking about the rules and the exceptions, but that would be boring but beyond words.

The third aspect of this series about musicians involved something that I have done slightly before, but never on this grand scale.  If you have listened to some of the early episodes of Celebrate Poe, you may have heard me talking to the ghost of Poe - which not surprisingly is my voice using a very deep southern drawl - believed to be the way that Edgar Allan Poe would've spoken.

GHOST ENTER SOUND

Isn't that right, Mr. Poe

Yes, Mr. Bartley.

Mr. Poe, how are you today?

I am certainly most tolerable, Mr. Bartley.  And permit me to interject the first two stanzas of The Raven - a poem written in 1845 and one that is perhaps my most well known composition.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

            Only this and nothing more.”

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

Well Mr. Poe, this seems to be as good at time as any to tell you and my listeners that, according to my online stats from my podcast hosting company, this morning my online stats showed that this podcast has finally had over 25,000 downloads in 100 countries and territories.

Now technically, the iPhone app for my Hosting Company shows 25,000 downloads for Celebrate Creativity, while buzz sprout on my computer shows 24,981 downloads - but at the current rate of gross of my podcast the computer version should be well over 25,000 in a day or two.

Congratulations, Mr. Bartley and I am sure we are most grateful to all those who have listened to your podcast - but pray tell, when did you begin this podcast?

I began this podcast on October 3 - my late mother's birthday - five years ago. And at the time, I didn't expect a specialized podcast like this to have more than 25 listeners

Mr. Bartley, I would certainly like to think that I had a part in reaching that milestone.

Mr. Poe, you certainly did - in fact you gave me the idea for all the episodes this month - interviewing the spirits of various composers regarding their lives and music.  Thank you very much

You are certainly welcome, Mr. Bartley. Now please allow me to continue the final three stanzas of my poem:

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Thank you Mr. Poe, that was beautiful, but I want to emphasize the point point that I utilized your persona - the ghost of Poe - to speak for you in your own words. Now I want to do the same thing with the musicians in this series - and it's a little bit more difficult because I have more than 25 musicians to keep straight - and I had years to work on developing the voice of Mr. Poe.

My first reaction to having multiple voices was to use multiple tracks - some people seem to have success with this - but I don't have a mixer or understand all the stuff that's involved in quickly switching from track to track -and no matter how hard I work on a track to make my voice sound like another individual - ANY individual - it always ends up sounding robotic.

However, one thing that seems to work with various body positions - for example, if I holding my shoulders in a different position, for example, causes my voice to sound like a different person. In other words you can sound like a different person just by practice and changing your body position - this is me talking holding my shoulders in a normal position - this is me talking holding my shoulders out and not making any attempt to change my voice - this is not exactly something that you could do on stage or if you were an actor in a motion picture - but can work in most podcasts basically nobody else can see you.  So I'm working on developing a different speaking style for each musician, taken into consideration their country of origin, personality, accent, and what ChatGPT has suggested that their personality might've been - such as deliberate, hectic, confused, etc. Of course this is all just a guess, but it sure has a lot of fun. And ultimately, that's a good part of the fun in coming up with voices for pre-1900 composers - nobody can really say you're wrong or right, because nobody knows what they sounded like. So I just wanted to introduce this episode with these comments before getting into the real subject and purpose of this podcast episode - and that is to introduce the musicians by imagining their reactions to a unusual object known as the microphone, or as several of the composers referred to it - that is those who figure it out - as the sound stick.

We’re starting out by introducing this strange new device to the greatest composers in history in this episode. After this, I’ll take a short break for a few days, and then—plans are for every day in October— an entire episode will be devoted to one composer and some audio clips of his music. It’s a formidable, even a little spooky task, but one I know will be full of surprises, laughter, and maybe even a few goosebumps.

Now, don’t worry if some of these names—Monteverdi, Purcell, even  Copland—feel distant or unfamiliar. By the end of the month, you’ll know them well enough that they might as well be eccentric uncles who show up at your dinner table, ask for a microphone, and refuse to hand it back.

Originally, the plan was to let you hear directly from our ghostly guests. But let’s just say… podcasting is not a natural skill for people who wrote music with quills by candlelight. Some are shy. Some are baffled. One or two are outright hostile toward the microphone. So instead, I’ll play emcee and introduce them for you—approximately 25 spirits, from Monteverdi through Copland. Consider this a backstage tour, a teaser of the otherworldly concert to come.”

First we have The Early Birds (Monteverdi, Purcell, Vivaldi, Bach, Handel)

“These are our Renaissance and Baroque trailblazers.

Not surprisingly, Claudio Monteverdi was the first to step up, curious as a cat. He poked at the mic, turned it over in his hand, and finally asked if it was some kind of lute. Then he frowned. ‘Too quiet,’ he muttered. ‘Needs violins.’

Henry Purcell approached like a suspicious priest, refusing to say a word until I promised him an organ accompaniment. Only then did he lean in and mumble that in his day, there were no ‘sound sticks’ cluttering the stage.

Then came Vivaldi, the Red Priest. He didn’t sing into the mic—he tried to conduct it. I don’t know how he expected a microphone to play The Four Seasons, but he gave it a valiant effort, waving his arms like a man leading invisible violins.

Bach arrived, eyes narrowed, muttering counterpoint equations under his breath. He examined the wiring as if it were a score. ‘This fugue,’ he said, tapping the mic, ‘has only one voice. It needs at least five.’

And Handel? Handel simply wanted to know whether the mic made him sound powerful enough to fill the Royal Albert Hall - that the sound would inspire the king of England and inspire him to stand.  I humored him and assured him it did. He launched into something grand and thunderous before I had to cut him off—we’re only in the promo, after all.”

The Classical Rock Stars (Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert)

“Now we step into the powdered-wig age, the glittering salons where music became both elegance and revolution.

Papa Haydn was charming and polite, but he couldn’t resist mischief. He asked if the mic could be wired to surprise listeners—like his famous ‘Surprise Symphony.’ I told him maybe later.

Mozart, of course, leaned in and whispered, ‘I could do this blindfolded.’ Then, just to prove it, he improvised an aria blindfolded. Even as a ghost, Mozart has more energy than ten mortals. Be warned: he may steal the show in his episode.

Beethoven was another story. He stormed up, seized the mic, and shouted at it to play music. The mic, sadly, did not comply. Beethoven grew louder, more commanding. Honestly, I think the microphone was trembling by the end.

Then came Schubert. Poor, gentle Franz. He leaned in and asked quietly, ‘Will anyone actually listen this time?’ My heart sank. Franz, I promise—we will.”

The Romantic Drama Club (Liszt, Chopin, Schumann, Wagner, Verdi, Brahms

“Here’s where the microphone truly earned its paycheck.

Liszt nearly broke it by turning his mic check into a full rock concert. Imagine Elton John in a séance and you’ve got the idea.  Unfortunately, Liszt expected any audience to scream and sigh at his very presence, but I had to remind him this was just a mic check

Chopin barely touched it, recoiling as if it might cough. He asked if the microphone could be made smaller—ideally the size of a piano key—and then drifted off like a sigh.

Robert Schumann whispered into it once, then argued with himself about whether it was any good. The microphone was bewildered. So was I.  But there was something about Schumann - I can't place my finger on it - that made me feel sad.

Wagner, of course, barreled in like a storm cloud. He shoved everyone aside, claimed the mic as his personal property, and announced: ‘Four operas. Sixteen hours. No breaks.’ I quietly unplugged it.

Verdi, ever the man of the people, wanted to know if the mic could reach the peasants in the cheap seats. He was halfway through testing when Brahms shuffled forward. Poor Brahms. He didn’t want to use the microphone at all, convinced Beethoven’s ghost was still hovering somewhere in judgment.”

The Nationalists and the Moderns (Tchaikovsky → Copland)

“By now, the microphone had seen enough to file for retirement. But the future was waiting.

Tchaikovsky asked if the microphone could handle cannons. I told him no. He didn’t believe me.

Dvořák tapped it and asked if it worked in America. Grieg scowled and muttered that real sound should be carved from wood, not spun from wires.

Saint-Saëns strode up, puffed out his chest, and demanded: ‘Can this thing record my roar?’ before demonstrating his lion’s growl from Carnival of the Animals. The mic survived, but just barely.

Mahler spent twenty minutes adjusting the mic stand, shifting it up, then down, then side to side. By the time he was ready, rehearsal was over.

Debussy leaned in, whispered something dreamy, and asked if the mic could sound like water. Ravel followed, declaring he needed two microphones—because one was never enough for his orchestrations.

Stravinsky tapped it three times, announced: ‘This is a Rite of Spring,’ and immediately provoked a riot among the other ghosts.

Prokofiev tested it by reciting fairy tales in booming tones, while Copland—the final guest—kept it simple. He just said: ‘This… is the sound of America.’ And for once, the mic hummed in perfect agreement.”

“So there you have it: a group of ghosts - or if you will - spirits, each with their first encounter with a microphone. Some baffled, some delighted, some… dangerous to public property. Over the next month, you’ll hear their voices more clearly, as each one takes center stage for an episode of their own.

It will be a journey through centuries of sound, laughter, genius, and a few temperamental spirits. But for now, consider this your backstage pass. The stage is set. The mic is waiting. And the ghosts or if you will - spirits are restless - and the conversations are yet to come. ”

And from your standpoint, by the end of this month's episodes dealing with pre-19 century musicians, composers such as Monteverdi, Mozart, Mahler, and even Copeland will feel like old friends—quirky, opinionated, maybe a little unhinged—but unforgettable.

If you want to hear what these spirits actually sound like when they finally get comfortable with the mic, you’ll need to tune in all month long. By now, most of the composers are showing a bit of progress by thinking of the microphone as a sound stick - which is fine by me - at least they don't consider a microphone something to eat.

Well, thank you for listening to this podcast episode - and thank you for taking time from your busy schedule to download Celebrate Poe - later Celebrate Creativity.

In the next episode, I would like to talk with the ghost - or if you will - the spirit of Claudio Monteverdi

In fact, I’d like to end this episode with a brief section by Monteverdi from his Vespro Della Beata Vergine - remember, this is the guy who wrote the first great opera.

[Closing music – Spring from The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi, Performed by John Harrison,. Source: Wikimedia Commons - CC BY-SA <//commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vivaldi_ _Four_Seasons_1_Spring_mvt_1_Allegro_-_John_Harrison_violin.oga>,License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording)

Ghost Entrance: Source: https://www.zapsplat.com/page/6/?s=ghost&post_type=music&sound-effect-category-id

https://zapsplat.net/zapsplat-sounds/download.php?fileName=sound_design_texture_ghostly_pass.mp3&expiry=1601608139,LLicense: Creative Commons.

“Vespro Della Beata Vergine/ Deus In Adiutorium - Domine Ad Adiuvandum”, by Claudio Monteverdi, Performed by Schwäbischer Singkreis; Hans Grischkat, Source: https://dn721902.ca.archive.org/0/items/lp_vespro-della-beata-vergine_claudio-monteverdi-schwabischer-singkredisc1/01.01.%20Vespro%20Della%20Beata%20Vergine%3A%20Deus%20In%20Adiutorium%20-%20Domine%20Ad%20Adiuvandum.mp3. License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording)