So what does this have to do with me and a garden?
The final song in Bernstein’s operetta is a song called “Make Our Garden Grow.” It starts with a soprano/tenor duet sung by the main character, Candide, and Cunegonde, the girl he ends up marrying. It’s a really beautiful song with sweet lyrics. This show may have been a flop, but Bernstein is a gifted composer.
My junior year in high school, the top honor choir that I sang in did “Make Our Garden Grow” in our winter concert and I was singing the part of Cunegonde. MY. FIRST. BIG. SOLO. I was dying a little on the inside. At one point there is an octave jump…an A to a high A. There are eight notes in an octave. If you sing them one at a time, it’s not a big deal, but if you sing the first note and the last note in succession, you’ve got a challenge on your hands. I had never done anything like this. How was I going to sing a high A? In front of people? With a microphone in front of my face? And the guy I had a stupid high school crush on was singing the tenor solo. Like I said, I was dying a little on the inside.
So I practiced…a lot. The wife of my high school youth pastor was a trained soprano and she graciously helped me figure out how to make that octave jump not sound hideous. “Think of the first note as a springboard for your high note.” That little piece of advice has stayed with me for over twenty years. Even as I went on and studied music in college, I can still remember Sandy’s words.
All of the practicing paid off because I was able to perform my solo well, without any embarrassing moments. To this day, when I hear that song, I fondly remember my first big solo—my nervousness in the unknown, the sense of accomplishment when I finished, using the easy note as a springboard for the hard one.
So it is with those memories and lessons that I have decided to grow a summer garden and try my hand blogging. I have no idea how I’m going to make some plants grow; this is totally new to me. The thought of trying to nurture something to life is a little terrifying…much like trying to figure out how to sing an octave jump. So I hope you’ll join me on my gardening adventure. It’s quite possible I’ll end up like Bernstein and have a total flop on my hands. It might take me several revivals to get it right. But I’m using this unknown as a springboard, even though I’m not sure where my high note is.
Oh, did I tell you I live in an apartment and don’t have a yard?
CANDIDE
You've been a fool and so have I, but come and be my wife.
And let us try, before we die, to make some sense of life.
We're neither pure, nor wise, nor good; we'll do the best we know.
We'll build our house and chop our wood and make our garden grow...
And make our garden grow.
CUNEGONDE
I thought the world was sugar cake, for so our master said.
But, now I'll teach my hands to bake our loaf of daily bread.
CANDIDE AND CUNEGONDE
We're neither pure, nor wise, nor good; we'll do the best we know.
We'll build our house and chop our wood and make our garden grow...
And make our garden grow.
ENSEMBLE
Let dreamers dream what worlds they please; those Edens can't be found.
The sweetest flowers, the fairest trees are grown in solid ground.
ENSEMBLE (a cappella)
We're neither pure, nor wise, nor good; we'll do the best we know.
We'll build our house and chop our wood and make our garden grow…
And make our garden grow!
