Mezzo-soprano, sometime teacher and tea-lover.
I am, and always have been, in love with singing and music. This manifested itself in different forms, from aiming for a career in radio to living for music festivals and concerts, cabarets and musicals. I came to choral music relatively late in life, having not really been exposed to it in a meaningful way. I found it incredibly challenging and beautiful; immediately I was hooked.
We live in an age that is obsessed with progress and evolution, yet the very core of what it is to be human, the yearning for beauty, truth and peace, has not changed in thousands of years. The very real human stories that inhabit Michael’s compositions speak to me of this unchanging condition. Love, sorrow, loss, prayer; the voices of the past provide a narrative to the present.
There is something sacred about the rise and fall of the voice. It wields a power. Singing songs that reflect the deep devotion of men and women can often be profound and aids me on my own journey of faith.
Michael often discusses meaning and importance of the text. What has been reinforced through my time in Anúna is that which I had forgotten by putting technique first; the music is a conduit for the story.
I understand the need to feel, to be present in the narrative rather than simply singing notes correctly. This interaction is the essence of musicality.