Originally composed during the UK Covid lockdown in 2020, Can You Hear Me? by award-winning British composer Thomas Hewitt Jones still has the power to resonate with its enduring message of kindness.
The piece was written to offer comfort and strength in difficult times, and its message is celebrated as universal and timeless. The song was originally released in May 2020, during Mental Health Awareness Week. The beautiful words by poet Matt Harvey touch upon themes of loneliness, longing and hope of better times to follow, accompanied by gentle, yet heartfelt music.
While originally scored for choir, soloist and orchestra, Can You Hear Me? was created for the enjoyment of singers and instrumentalists of all abilities worldwide. This accessibility underscores the composer’s intention for the piece to reach a wide audience and offer solace and connection through music.
The power and beauty of Can You Hear Me? are captured in a recording by the Choir of Royal Holloway, University of London, with soprano Laura Wright. This recording serves as a testament to the emotional depth and enduring quality of the work.
Can You Hear Me? stands as a poignant reminder of the shared human experience during challenging times and continues to offer a message of hope and connection. This reshare marks the fifth anniversary of the first lockdown and provides an opportunity to revisit this powerful and uplifting work.
The music is available on all major streaming platforms and the score is published by Stainer & Bell
Upward, Upward! leaving the ground and ordinary life behind, a steady bass line in 6/8 but flexible, sforzandi mere pin pricks; a statement of simplicity, of purity
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Variation I
Sixteenths everywhere now, a driving bass line 2- note slurs, 3-note slurs, stark contrasts between piano and forte, between delicate and fierce
Search for a “piano” that would dissolve angel’s wings, a “forte” that would march into a battle of toy soldiers
* * * *
Variation II
A treble of trills and fast notes, supported by a flow of triplets in the bass
Harmonically true to the Theme, but expanding in time and temperament
* * *
Variation III
We’re in A minor!
The sound, again – so important to create in it the poignancy of this darker atmosphere with long legato lines under slurs
Think of a mourning dove or the velvety petals of a pansy
Think of anything you can to enter this world of sad beauty
* * * *
Variation IV
*
The return to A major is glorious here with almost no time taken between movements
You gauge!
Hand crossing from bass to a soaring treble gives a physical sense of being airborne
* * * *
Variation V
Adagio
*
The melody speaks in fat, round droplets of notes over an accompaniment written in 32nds, perhaps to keep the music alive despite its slowness
Sforzando/piani on certain downbeats continue the almost Beethovenesque strength of dynamic markings
* * * *
Variation VI Allegro
*
Following a soulful Adagio this movement sets us free. It’s jaunty, jubilant, energetic
Grace notes add playfulness, strong 16ths in forte again speak like Beethoven
* * * *
Menuetto and Trio
*
We can dance to this tempo – no need to rush; gracefulness prevails and while we’ve traveled far away from the opening, a gossamer cord can pull us back at any moment
Every form of contrast exists inside this small variation: dark/light/ forte/piano/ tragedy/light-heartedness
He’s Bergman one moment and Hitchcock the next!
* * * *
Allegrino Alla Turco
*
We’ve heard it all our lives. But forget that if you can: this music is new and filled with wonder – a wild dance! Measure 12 is a beautiful spot when Major turns to minor. When life turns to death- but just for a moment
Overall there is an ecstatic feel, a sense of arrival and of triumph!
* * * *
Beth Levin performs in the UK this month and next:
SING HER TUNE 6-7pm, Sunday 18th May 2025, St Mary’s Church, Guildford GU1 3UA
Corra Sound, conducted by Amy Bebbington
Corra Sound, an all-female choir and dedicated advocate for upper voice music, announces its May concert, Sing Her Tune – a unique opportunity to experience a stunning medley of dynamic compositions from some of today’s most talented choral composers.
Taking place on Sunday 18th May 2025 at St Mary’s Church, Guildford, this performance will proudly unveil the top three winning works from Corra Sound’s 2023 ‘Call for Scores’ competition. From a total of 90 submissions, these outstanding compositions were selected not only for their musical artistry but also for the powerful themes they portray. Composers were invited to write music based on themes of female power, strength, flowing energy, survival, and/or parental advocacy, and the winning pieces offer deeply creative responses to this remit.
The concert will feature the premiere of A Mother’s Farewell by British composer and jazz pianist Kate Hill. With text by Scarlett Palys, this work reflects upon the enduring power and vulnerability of maternal love, exploring a mother’s final question about the sufficiency and recognition of her love. The piece showcases jazz-inspired voicings and an emotive, rich yet accessible sound-world, led by an elegiac soprano line.
The audience will also hear The Land of no more Night, an evocative piece by Seattle-based composer and pianist Kari Kruver Medina. Setting text by Christina Rossetti, the work briefly opens with a ponderous tone filled with darkness and despair, before quickly shifting to joyous proclamations of creation singing its hymn anew with the promise of a new day.
Completing the trio of winning compositions are two humorous musical settings by American composer and organist Erik Meyer: Unfortunate Coincidence and Social Note. These works bring the dark, sarcastic wit of Dorothy Parker to life, demonstrating her penchant for social protest against patriarchal convention through acerbic derision.
In addition to these exciting premieres, the programme will include equally illuminating and uplifting repertoire by both new and established composers. Audiences can look forward to hearing Eriks Esenvalds’ beautifully evocative Only in Sleep, Elaine Hagenberg’s rousing Measure me sky! and magnificent Shadow River, Don MacDonald’s ethereal Moonset and optimistically powerful She is the river, and Alexandra Olsavsky’s What happens when a woman?.
The concert will also feature two pieces that were winners in Corra Sound’s workshops last year: Hope is the thing by local composer Barbara Cobham, a heartfelt tribute to her niece who sadly passed away, and Air, Heart by Amanda Dean, scored for voices and boomwhackers, celebrating the tenacity and adventurous spirit of Amelia Earhart.
Corra Sound invites you to join them for this dynamically diverse programme celebrating new and established composers, thought-provoking and remarkable repertoire, and challenging yet accessible music for upper voices.
Corra Sound is an outstanding ensemble, brilliantly led, and their programming is inspiring and imaginative. They sing with commitment and artistry, with clarity and colour, and are a joy to listen to.
Neil Ferris (Director, BBC Symphony Chorus, Sonoro)
Corra Sound is a remarkable group of singers with a love for performing, discovering new repertoire and celebrating the works of talented and often little known female composers.
Comprising a blend of professionally trained and high level amateur voices, the members of Corra Sound each have their own story to tell, but share a passion for music written by and for women, exploring the reach and versatility of the female voice.
Corra Sound has a unique identity which encompasses a broad range of vocal styles, bringing a deeply-rooted sense of heart, connectivity and passion to their performances. Corra’s mission is to bring works by (predominantly) female composers out of the shadows and into the spotlight, and the choir is gaining a reputation for high quality performance across a wide range of repertoire.
It is incredibly refreshing to be part of a group where musical excellence and well-being are held in equally high regard. This is a group of women who bring everything to the table and Corra Sound’s resulting performances are imbued with life-affirming and infectious emotion, passion and joy.
Katherine Bond-Smith (Corra Sound member)
Corra Sound was founded and is directed by Dr. Amy Bebbington, a passionate advocate for choral singing and conductor training, known for championing marginalised musicians through choral programming, Discovery Days and mentoring, and sought after for her engaging teaching style and wealth of pedagogical experience.
Guest post by Dakota Gale, the latest article in his series aimed at amateur adult pianists
I clearly remember the first time I rode Tyler’s, a popular bike trail near me. I walked some rocky uphill ramps, awkwardly landed jumps, and generally hacked my way down it like a noob.
I still had a hell of a fine time.
These days, I’ve ridden Tyler’s dozens of times and know every major feature. I fly down that sucker.
But is Tyler’s more fun, exciting or fulfilling now versus my first time?
In general, is there a way to develop appreciation and deeper comprehension rather than boredom for a repeated experience?
Travel to the same places. Hobbies we’ve done for years. Meals we’ve made for a decade.
Or piano pieces!
Navigating the creative gamut
Like a new bike trail, the first time I play a piano piece my brain scrabbles to survive, jamming the notes into my brain. I’m walking super rocky sections and scoping out switchbacks, one measure and phrase at a time.
Take Schubert’s Serenade, a song I’ve always loved that I started playing.In my initial efforts, I pushed through the technical challenges of the piece and could “play” it. Then I tabled it for a month, letting the music sink into my synapses. Cue round two, with more nuance and expression…and yet I was barely getting started.
Bridging that gap between what I CAN do and what I WANT to do is the hardest part. With any new piece, I listen to recordings and think, “yup, do that, fingers!” Then I sit down and create some monotone pabulum akin to playing bongo drums with wet laundry. *sigh*
The gap between my expectations and my abilities is frustrating sometimes. Like some truculent kid, I want to play it like a pro, now now now!
After I turn my pre-frontal cortex back on, I can (usually) reframe things. Because truly, I find this so motivating: I’m going to grow not just with new pieces, but enjoy a deep satisfaction revisiting piano works for the rest of my life. Something fresh to discover, to experience.
And dang it, I AM making progress. Even if I’m no master, there’s magic in the journey and daily satisfaction in the learning. I don’t need to be pro to have fun. (Maybe it’s more fun not worrying about earning a living with it?)
Plus, pushing myself on challenging songs pushes me to greater heights on those I already play. It’s the same thing that happens when I ride technical trails on my bike. I may not slip effortlessly through the toughest moves, but that difficulty makes other trails feel even more cruisier in comparison.
Unlike during piano pieces, sometimes I pause mid-climb on a bike to eat…
As piano, as life
I love how this mindset so easily translates to other endeavors or pastimes. We’re different people when we revisit a city or national park, reread a book, or play an old song. Depth, additional context, a slower pace…it all modifies the experience and likely results in a deeper appreciation.
With all this in mind, I’m continuing to actively push myself to share not-perfect work like my beginner drawings and music recordings. (Sharing my writing on my blog starting a decade ago was an early effort in that arena.)
It’s tough because I want the work to be better, to make insane progress overnight. Sometimes I shake my head at how hard it is to take what’s in my brain and put it on paper or piano.
Whatever. There’s a reason every book on creativity decries perfectionism and Ira Glass from This American Life talks about “The Gap,” that space between what we envision and what appears in reality. I’ll probably always find blemishes and wish-it-were-different aspects of ANYthing I create.
The good news? It creates constant motivation to keep improving, growing, seeking.
That’s a beautiful thing.
As for Schubert’s Serenade? Maybe it’s not perfect, but I’m looking forward to a lifetime of it evolving beneath my fingers.
And if I get frustrated, I can always go rip down Tyler’s on my mountain bike.
When he isn’t playing piano, Dakota Gale enjoys exploring the great outdoors, learning languages and drawing. He also writes about reclaiming creativity as an adult and ditching tired personal paradigms in his newsletter, Traipsing About. He can often be spotted camping and exploring mountain bike trails around the Pacific Northwest.
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