day 4 - John's house Melbourne. Or why you should play any other instrument than voice.

Well tonight the storm broke. Emlyn and I have both been feeling poorly for much of the tour and hoping we aren't bringers of disease on our travels. I'm on the mend. Emlyn is a feverish mess though.

Tonight, just as my lungs, eustachian tubes and vocal cords were clearing for the first time on the tour, and I was ready to let rip..

 Emlyn's voice was gone. We sang two songs as he got softer and softer, down to a whispered growl. So John and his family fed us a beautiful dinner and his daughters donated their study for us to sleep in. And all they got was two songs of decreasing volume. John's older daughter kindly played Cello for us, while I badly accompanied her on piano. Thanks to her there was some music making tonight, but it wasn't at the table and outside of this blog's rhealm. I doubt we have a video for you. At any rate Emlyn is fast asleep as he needs to be, so he's not awake to do the editing of the video tonight.

 So instead - a reflection on what's it's like so far. I grew up in a singing family - mum came from a singing family. I like to think singing is my unbroken thread back to my celtic heritage. To me, singing and home and family have always gone together. And I know you sometimes meet people who sing in public, unsolicited and it's not a good thing (Hyancinth Bucket) so I've had to learn to become aware of and curb singing when I'm in public, because I grew up where singing was more normal than not singing, and I was barely aware of doing it.

 Emlyn and I don't exactly 'practise' because music is just part of what we do together in our lives. The only time we officially set aside to work into our music and bed down ideas is when we take it to the kitchen table. Some of the families we've visited have been highly musical and some folks have been music appreciators rather than music makers. I have realised what a blessing I have had for singing to be a natural part of my whole life, because I've seen it isn't everybody's experience. So for some folks, music making at their table has been totally exotic.

 It's given me yet another reason to believe music education matters - PEOPLE'S SOULS CRAVE MUSIC. When we were at Inverbrackie, the folks there were a rowdy, noisy audience. Partly because there were a lot of children. Partly because we were the only thing on offer so it was us or nothing - but acappella singing isn't everyone's cup of tea quite frankly. And perhaps folks who discovered we weren't their thing didn't feel comfortable walking out on us. Or maybe there were cultural reasons it was rowdy - the culture of the place or the cultures of the people - that I didn't understand. But we got people engaged by getting them to clap. We ditched all our slow songs, and I made up body rhythm ostinatos (fancy word that means repeated pattern) for the folks to join in for everything. And it worked - except when I got tripped up by the rhythms myself - there was a lot to be processing in real time one way and another. it seemed to me these folks craved active music making, but were not at ease singing along with us.

I've realised I define music as something done with and for other people. Which means music education needs to involve group music making and performing. Band, orchestra, choir, jamming whatever. And performing regularly because music is something to share.

 On another note I had wondered how we would find daytime homelessness. The times between when we leave one house in the morning, and are expected at the next house in the evening. It's been bloody fantastic. We have camp chairs and tour cake and parks. The other day Emlyn set up temporary office in Geelong city library with wifi, a powerpoint and a table. (what more does a geek really need?) and I slept on a beanbag in the corner. I did grab a book to read, to try to look more library appropriate but I fell asleep cheered on by a fellow sleeper on a nearby couch who made no attempt to appear to be reading.

The other thing I've noticed is how lovely people are. How kind they are to their children. How welcoming and accommodating they are with us. After the election we can all feel a bit dismal about being Australians, but this has been a restoration of faith.