I was having a conversation with a student recently about plateaus. This student was remembering a previous blog in which I had discussed the plateaus we experience in our vocal training where it feels like we can go for an extended time without making any progress. These are inevitable periods that everyone goes through—no one's trajectory is only forward. It's also worth noting that a plateau can actually be a form of progress, because we are solidifying our status on higher ground (at a higher skill level) than we used to be.
This idea reminds me of an experience I had last summer when I was out on a hike. While trekking toward a peak in the Wasatch range, I looked across the valley and saw how the clouds were casting a shadow on a significant section of the opposite ridge (picture below). From my vantage point, I could see that most of the mountain was in sunlight. But I remember thinking that any hikers who happened to be in the middle of the shadowed section probably wouldn't be able to tell how much longer they would be in that darkness before they would be back in the sun.
This time of year, it is a tradition for musical ensembles to program performances of Handel's Messiah, the great oratorio for symphony, chorus, and vocal soloists. One of the arias for bass soloist is assigned the text, "The people that walked in darkness." At the start of the piece, the vocal line meanders, winding around in chromatic eighth notes before landing on a low F2. It's as though the melody itself is searching for a way out of darkness only to be plunged into the depths.
As the aria continues, however, the chromaticism starts to dissipate and the melody ascends to a sustained high D4 (the tonic of the key) on the phrase "have seen a great light."
It feels a lot like a hiker working through the muddled darkness of a shadowy ridge only to emerge onto a sunlit peak. In the picture below, you can see that the entire last stretch of the hike toward the peak on the left is in the shadows. As most mountain hikers know, the last stretch before a peak is often the most difficult. It is usually the steepest part of the hike and can involve scrambling up loose rocks that have less-secure footing than the lower sections of the trail. Add darkness to the mix and all of these factors could make any hiker want to turn around and head back down the mountain, right when they are closer than ever to the peak.
The end of the semester is also a peak, of sorts. Even if it doesn't necessarily feel like you are reaching a monumental finish, it does represent the end of a long, sometimes meandering hike. When we are amid the difficulties and darkness of a semester (or a degree program, or a career), it's tough to know how long we will have to endure before we reach the light. And when we are on drawn-out journeys, the longer we trudge, the more arduous it can become. But that could also mean that the peak, and the light, are just a few more steps away.
Keep hiking.
I'm grateful for the semester we have spent together. Once we finish, I hope you will all look back at how far we've come and take a bit of time to enjoy the view.
Happy Holidays.
-brian