Memoir Archives - Growing wings

I search for suitable music to inspire me to write today. I pull out all the stops, scroll through several playlists and stumble across Spotify’s Classical Summer compilation.

Promises of selections by composers include three well-knowns –

Beethoven, (not my favourite composer – too ‘heavy’)
Bach (‘lovely and light’) and
Chopin (likeable)

…. make for restful listening.

Although, depending on who I listen to, symphonic music is not always an easy listen. Like Beethoven. I find his music heavy and downright sleep-inducing. I hope I’ve chosen wisely.

Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge - a 'pull out all the stops' type of holiday — Panorama of Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House

A pause in pulling out all the stops

I pick up a novel I finished recently. Winner of the Women’s Prize, The Song of Achilles by Madeleine Miller is a well-paced read I found difficult to put down. I flick it open, ready to write a review.

Inside the cover I find two tickets I used as book marks. One took me on a tour of the Sydney Opera House and the second, to Saint-Saen’s Organ Symphony the same night.

My review is deferred

I learn a great deal about the Sydney Opera House on my tour. I discover –

It was designed by Danish architect Jørn Utzon. Something I knew, but had forgotten.
It took fourteen years to build. Also knew this, but also forgotten.
Building commenced in 1959, four years after I was born and was officially opened the year after I commenced university, in 1973. I recall Her majesty, Queen Elizabeth II visiting for the official opening.
In 2023 it was 50 years old. I am clearly much older.
Costs began at $7million and blew out to $102 million dollars! The purchase of lotto tickets helped subsidize the build. I didn’t I contributed. I live in WA, capital – Perth. It was a State Lottery.
Utzon, the original architect never saw the finished building. He got ticked off over the numerous changes to the original plans and quit in 1966.
And – the point of this piece of writing – it houses the largest mechanical tracker organ in the world. You can read about it being the largest in the world, how it is played and who has the privilege of playing it, here and here.
When I see the organ I liken it to the WA Goldfields Pipeline! Meaning, the pipes are HUGE!

And that organ is, according to my brilliant and information packed tour guide, only played around 4 times a year. I think he means for 4 different ticketed ‘shows’.

pull out all the stops on this organ! — Sydney Opera House organ pipes

What? Only 4 times!

I cannot resist the opportunity to experience one of those occasions.

Over lunch, part of my ticketed tour, I search for online tickets. I can’t decide on a seat. I know it’s not supposed to matter where you sit in the concert hall. Every detail is acoustically optimized.

Recently refurbished within an inch of its life around 2020, it took two years to complete. The original acoustics were short changed (ie not enough money) and hence, of poor quality, apparently. Today it boasts –

massive speakers
carefully designed wooden panelling around the walls that are acoustically friendly
pink, vaulted tile-shaped shells that hang from the ceiling
and other features listed here.

Sydney Opera Hall acoustics – capturing the magnificent size is challenging.

The concert pulls out all the stops

I am blown away – moved to tears – by the sheer beauty of the rendition of St Saen’s Symphony. The organist, Olivier Latry, is given latitude to play above – or more loudly – than other instruments. He pulls out all the stops in a brilliant performance.

The term ‘pull out all stops’ originated with the pipe organ. When a player pulls the organ’s stops out, more air flows through the pipes and the volume increases. Pulling out all the stops results in extremely loud, energetic music. In every day use, the the phrase also means to use all resources available to achieve an outcome.

Typical concert chats with co-fans sitting next to me reveal at least one attends this symphony any time he can – to date that’s 5, or 6 times! Clearly he’s pulling out all the stops to listen to a favourite!

Who was he?

Saint-Saen was a musical prodigy, rivalling his contemporary, Mozart, and liked Bach, according to some background reading here. Even though the critique is offered by a Pulitzer Prize winner, Mozart remains my favourite.

It both amazes and amuses me that Saint-Saen’s contemporaries like Schumann, Liszt, Wagner, Verdi – are names I am familiar with. In my early childhood I learnt some of their pieces on my grandmother’s piano. (You can read about my childhood piano here.) But I didn’t play around on the organ long enough to move past church hymns.

Where to from here?

My serendipitous choice of Classical Summer music makes me smile. It reflects the very composers Saint-Saen’s talent is compared with and the contemporary he enjoyed. How could that be? I had no idea about this composer, famous for his organ symphony, until that Friday night concert in the Opera House. Nor of his history, until I read about him (of course!).

I add a previously unknown composer (to me) to my repertoire of incredibles and listen, once again to a rendition I find on You tube of the Symphony in C: Organ – the whole symphony, here and of the Finale alone, here.

Have you been to the Opera House? Or have you discovered a piece of music or composer in an unexpected moment that brings joy? Please let me know below or by clicking the link here and scrolling to the end of the post.

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Where do I start?

It’s time! Recently I began my journey of sharing family stories: I shared what I’d captured in writing and photos about my mother’s life with members of the family. Her request to withhold sharing her stories until she after she passed on has been honoured.

Questions around making family stories available to the wider circle, and ultimately to the wider community, is knowing what to write, where to draw the line in what is shared and when to publish.

Tough decisions

Shortly after my mother passed away, I wrote a short piece testifying to an energetic approach that helped both my mother and myself manage those last challenging months. It was a tough call, having responded to a request to write it and being entrusted to let it go forward to publication, to unexpectedly heed a clear and loud message from my ancestors to not publish.

You see, at first, I thought it was fear. Fear of putting self out there. Fear of what others might do with my story. Fear of not being understood. And not knowing how to handle all that, I pulled back. Yes, I’d been burnt before. This response predominated, yet it was much deeper. Sharing one’s life story and those of others is a journey of trust.

Honouring Values

In fact, it wasn’t fear at all. After deep reflection on why I prevaricated, it was honouring my mother’s wish for privacy, something that unfolded with increasing awareness in the days following her passing and my decision to hold back. In part it is called grieving. It is also called honouring family values. An incredibly private family, it is a wonder I am even writing this! Let alone thinking I’ll publish it!

But the time has now come. As poorly written as the memories of my mother are, (I could offer several excuses for that), they are nevertheless, precious memories. I know that she read and re-read what I wrote: they reminded her of who she was, of the life she had lived, of her input into life. They are now shared within the family, where they matter the most.

My mother takes a walk along the historic path in her home town. — My mother walks along a historical path in her home town.

What happens from here?

It is now time for me to move forward by looking back. How on earth does one do both at the same time?!

Naturally reflective, I like to learn from the past. As I enter an era heralded by a number I am loathe to disclose but glad to have achieved, I know I have more years behind me than ahead of me! It is time to write the stories, share them with family and prospectively publish them. That is my goal.

I’m now ‘keen as mustard’ to write my stories

Where will I find my stories?

My 50 crates of family history stored in a shed in our back yard need to be distilled into family stories that I can pass on to my children and grandchildren. Over the years I created both wonder and disappointment in family expectations to participate in family gatherings, collect history and so on. I’d wax and wane with enthusiasm.

Capturing other people’s lives on paper or in making sense of photos of people long gone was far less important than current matters. I was caught up in raising my own family: I just wanted to live my own life. Even so, my mother relentlessly fed me family history from a young age. Now, I am, in fact, deeply grateful. Oddly, now that she is gone, I am more able to focus on writing about the photos, memorabilia and stories that I can share from memory and uncover from research. I guess it comes down to having more time to do so.

I have made inroads and I am now writing, once again. I’ll share the process. I’ll share snippets, photos, possibly some of the stories, along the way. Wish me well on my journey.

CS Lewis Quote “… we write in order to understand”

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Tag: Memoir

Pull out all the stops