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An undemanding audience
I think I started messing around with improvised music about five years ago - whenever it was that I got my lyre. I spent a lot of time one Pennsic lying in the common tent in Storvik camp, brave enough to noodle around because there weren't many other people there and I thought they weren't listening.
I'm now pretty good with improv, to the point of being able to construct melodies with some degree of structure on the fly. The next place I wanted to go, performance-wise, was improvised text or text plus melody. I took a small step in that direction with "To War," a simple marching tune composed in five minutes on the battlefield at last year's Pennsic, the verses to which are all supposed to be improvised. It's simple - any seven syllables, or thereabouts, will do - there is no rhyme.
Yesterday, I spun out a ballad-y thing (I doubt the meter is actually ballad meter) for Spud, totally out of my head. It's still unrhymed, and I don't even try to advance the "plot" more than one line per stanza:
It isn't Great Art, but it's another step toward where I want to go - and I think I made it because 1) it's fun to sing to the Spud and 2) Spud has no expectations. It's risky to walk into a bardic circle and try to compose on the spot if you haven't had practice doing it; it's boring to practice it without an audience. Spud is an audience who is entertained just by the sound of my voice, so I can flub without fear. Pretty handy.
We'll have to see if the boy likes alliterative poetry.
I'm now pretty good with improv, to the point of being able to construct melodies with some degree of structure on the fly. The next place I wanted to go, performance-wise, was improvised text or text plus melody. I took a small step in that direction with "To War," a simple marching tune composed in five minutes on the battlefield at last year's Pennsic, the verses to which are all supposed to be improvised. It's simple - any seven syllables, or thereabouts, will do - there is no rhyme.
Yesterday, I spun out a ballad-y thing (I doubt the meter is actually ballad meter) for Spud, totally out of my head. It's still unrhymed, and I don't even try to advance the "plot" more than one line per stanza:
Little bitty baby lie down in the cribMore Appalachian than medieval, I think. :) The melody for the matching lines also matches, now that I think about it. I even remembered the tune (also simple) today; yesterday, Moe asked me what song it was and was certain that I didn't make it up, but I'm pretty sure that I did.
Baby-o, baby-o
Little bitty baby lie down in the crib
Baby, oh baby-o
It isn't Great Art, but it's another step toward where I want to go - and I think I made it because 1) it's fun to sing to the Spud and 2) Spud has no expectations. It's risky to walk into a bardic circle and try to compose on the spot if you haven't had practice doing it; it's boring to practice it without an audience. Spud is an audience who is entertained just by the sound of my voice, so I can flub without fear. Pretty handy.
We'll have to see if the boy likes alliterative poetry.