I started to write about learning new software. But no one learns software for its own sake. Software’s like a second language: you learn it because you have a goal. Even the well-intended “everyone should know how to code” silliness has a goal, which is less about coding and more about something like logical thinking, understanding complex systems, or producing a result that the coder finds worthwhile.
I decided I wanted to write about two things: why I wanted to learn this particular software, and how I’m not learning the way the program’s developers think I should. I’m not even learning the way I might have thought I should. It’s going to take me a couple of posts; this is the first.
What I wanted to learn
Last year, I joined the Victoria Gaelic Choir. Gaelic (Gàidhlig, Scottish Gaelic) was the language of my ancestors and even my grandparents. I know only a few words and phrases, but I’ve know Gaelic singing for a long time–and if you don’t, there’s a list at the end of this post to get you started.
As I said last year, this opened a clutch of challenges. I needed to learn lyrics in a language I don’t speak–one whose spelling and pronunciation aren’t always easy for an English speaker:
O seinnidh mi dàn do dh’eilean mo ghràidh
(O, I’ll sing a song to the island that I love)
“oh shay-nee mee dawn doh yell-un mo gr-eye…”
And before the lyrics, I needed to learn the melody for many songs I’d never heard. (Tune first, words second; trust me.) Even for those I did recognize, I needed to learn the tenor part.
I can pick out a tune or a tenor line on guitar, but that’s not a practical way to learn a choral piece. I seriously considered buying an electronic keyboard, but my son (thank goodness) suggested I experiment with a 30-day trial of Sibelius First.
With Sibelius, I know what I’m doing. Or what I should do.
This $120 package lets you compose music on your computer and share it with others. I didn’t plan any composition, but the features that caused my son to suggest Sibelius include the ability to scan printed sheet music, to create an editable digital score, and to export sound files.
Sheet music to an mp3? Does it work?
Let me show, rather than tell. That line of Gaelic above is from Uibhist Mo Ghràidh (Uist, My Love), an archetypal Gaelic song about the island of North Uist, where my mother’s people came from.
O seinnidh mi dàn do dh’eilean mo ghràidh
far an d’fhuair mi m’àrach nuair bha mi nam phàisd’
Far am bi mo chrìdhe gu deireadh mo là
ann an Eilean Uibhist an eòrna.
O, I’ll sing a song to the isle of my love
where I was raised as a child
where my heart will be to the end of my days
In the Isle of Uist of the barley.
If you want some idea of how I felt when everyone else in the choir knew this, listen to Linda NicLeòid — Linda MacLeod — singing. (I’ll resume below below the video.)
A recording like this demonstrates the melody, and from Wednesday night choir practice I had a nodding acquaintance with the tenor line. But “once a week” takes the idea of spaced practice to an extreme. I needed to hear the tenor part on its own, a lot, so I could practice.
I chose Uibhist Mo Ghràidh for this post to show what I was able to do after working with Sibelius off and on for about three months. Starting with a good copy of the sheet music, arranged for soprano, alto, tenor, and bass:
- I scanned the music into Sibelius.
- I edited a few errors the scan didn’t quite catch.
- From the digital version, I exported audio files for each part and for the four parts together.
Sibelius allows me to choose instruments–which means I can make the audio sound like piano, or like human voices. I went the latter route. Here’s the full choir audio, and here’s the tenor part.
The audio comes out as .wav files. It takes me less than a minute to convert them to mp3s, which I can then send to my phone or share with other members of the choir.
That’s where I went. Next time: how I got there.
It’s taken me a while to write this post, because I kept rethinking what it was I wanted to learn and how I could explain the context. If I had to summarize my own learning goal, it’d be “have the tune for the tenor parts to Gaelic songs I want to sing.” That’s an oversimplification, but it was also a 14-word target I wanted to hit.
It took some effort before I could hit it, and the process of that learning is what will be in the next post.
Those Gaelic songs I promised
Song may be one of the most enduring ways to preserve and transmit a language. Here are a few examples–the links in the song titles lead to a recording of the song. When I’ve been able to find an online translation into English, I’ve put a link for that as well. (The links are set to open in a new window.)
- The late Raylene Rankin (a distant cousin) singing An Innis Aigh, The Happy Island, about Margaree Island, which you can see from my home town on Cape Breton. (Lyrics and English translation at the same link)
- Kathleen MacInnes, Òganaich An Òr-fhuilt Bhuidhe, Young Man with the Golden Hair (lyrics and English translation).
- The Campbells of Greepe, who start with puirt-à-beul (“mouth music”) meant to imitate instruments and meant to dance to.
- Karen Matheson, Gleann Bhaile Chaoil, Ballachulish Glen (lyrics and English translation).
- Runrig, Cearcall a’ Chuain, The Ocean’s Cycle (both Gaelic and English in the video). There are typos in the Gaelic, but you’ll probably overlook them.