“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary …” If you don’t recognize those words, they form the opening line of Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “The Raven”, first published on this date in 1845, 180 years ago. Poe penned this work not many years before his death at age forty. But in his short life he managed to be the first writer in the US to use the short story as a vehicle for his creativity and was the first to have used a detective for a protagonist. I’m not sure that matters, but his creativity allowed him to challenge the exceptions of the day. I find it fascinating that the classics still live on with us. I first heard “The Raven” recited when I was eleven or twelve at the Rainy River District Festival when Tris Trethart won the Rose Bowl trophy because of his impressive recitation. Learning “The Raven” was no easy feat with its more than a thousand words and eighteen stanzas consisting of 108 lines. The accomplishment seemed effortless for Tris, and I was in awe of his considerable talent, the poem coming to life as I heard the writer’s anguish and struggle with grief conveyed in Tris’ voice, as the raven repeatedly proclaimed “nevermore”. I could feel the hopelessness even at my young age. I wonder if Tris could recite the poem today if asked. I bet he could.
Tris had musical talent and was one of the trombone players in the Fort Frances Orchestra under Ralph Whetstone’s direction. Tris also added his talent to the collective musical prowess of Flight VI with Rob McVey on bass guitar, Rick Benson on lead guitar, Dave Chapman on keyboard and lead vocals, Terry Perkins on the drums, alongside my brother Laurie on the saxophone. Some of you will remember Flight VI. Though I may be biased, I thought they were superbly talented, and I especially enjoyed listening to them rehearse whenever they came to do so at the farm, imagining they would be stars one day and I would have had boasting rights to have heard them play when they were just becoming. I’m not sure my parents, in their resistance to the shifting tides of the 60s, realized how talented these young men were.
I was also in the audience at the Festival when Marilyn Dallman and Betty Anne Dallman played the piano and knowing I was in the presence of musical wizardry. Again, to sit and take in all the talent at the final concert in the Fort Frances Highschool Mathieu Auditorium was such a big deal for most, recognizing the abundant talent in our small town and surrounding area. The Auditorium was filled to the limit, a hush drawing over the crowd when the performances began. Those Music and Spoken Poetry Festivals were an important part of children’s education in the Rainy River District, and I hope they continue to be. We pulled on our finest clothes, shined our shoes, smoothed down our hair and marched on to the stage at the Memorial Arena upper hall, with choirs and individual performances and gave it our all. I remember more clearly the talent of others than I remember my own participation. I never quite conquered the stage fright thing, but I listened, closing my eyes and hearing the words and melodies, swept away to some magical place far away.
I’m not sure learning to recite the names and years of the outbreak of wars that the world participated in has any lasting value, though I can appreciate that understanding how war happened is important to learn from and it provides a measure of progress, though these days that progress looks dim. I have used my math education in a variety of ways, so I won’t criticize my time spent in those classes, mostly because I was a big fan of mathematics. A well-rounded education is essential to our development, but the Arts are especially significant in exercising the elasticity of our brains. Mastering a musical instrument, creating dance, putting our voice to song, allowing our hands to create with paint or clay or any media, is the very definition of being human.
I can only imagine how many children were inspired to their own creativity by Tris, the Dallman sisters and all the others on those wonderful occasions of celebration in the JA Mathieu Auditorium. Lucky us who were witness.
wendistewart@live.ca
