Joan Beal - Never Alone

I wanted to explain a bit about this new recording, and why I chose these four songs to share with you. I’ve been singing all my life, but it’s only in the past few years that I’ve come to understand how healing singing can be. When words have failed me, there was always the piano, a song, and a way to express my greatest sorrows, deepest fears, and simple hope.

That’s why, for this project, I’ve gone back to my roots. I began singing at the baby grand, in the middle of the living room. My brothers and parents were very gracious...they tolerated my playing and singing the same songs, over and over, and never complained. I owned many singer songwriter books, along with several collections of jazz standards and hymnals. I also composed my own songs, which were a mish mash of all these styles. The act of playing and singing took me to another place, far beyond my suburban living room. The words connected me with poetry and ideas that resonated in my heart and spirit.

These are simple songs, sung without much adornment. Not a lot of arpeggios, high notes or grandeur. I don’t rely on my operatic chops. My friend Robert Irving has produced the tracks to evoke a sense of calm--he calls it “the escape from reality zone.” My son Henry calls it chillaxin’. It’s music made for you to sing along, meditate, contemplate, enjoy. And you can feel good, knowing that all the money you paid to get these songs is going to help others. The online sale of the music goes to CCSVI research--exploring the vascular connection to multiple sclerosis.
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Blessings is written by the young contemporary Christian artist Laura Story. I believe the message of this song is universal and crosses many faiths.....the question she asks is one many of us grapple with....Why do heart breaking things happen to us? Everything was going perfectly for Laura. She had a recording career and had married her sweetheart, Martin. Here, Laura explains what happened two years into that fairy tale marriage and career and why she wrote this song.

Martin and Laura were both 28 when Martin’s tumor was diagnosed. It wasn’t cancerous, but was growing aggressively and invasively inside his brain. At the time, they’d been married less than two years.

“At first you just look and say, ‘Why? Why didn’t you just fix it, God? You’re all powerful and all loving… just fix it.’

“We did the premarital counseling and they told us how to balance our checkbook and to say you’re sorry even when you don’t mean it,” she says with a small laugh. “But no one tells you how to respond when one of you is diagnosed with a life-threatening illness.

“I thought it would all get back to normal,” she continues. “Here’s the road… we’re gonna take a detour. About a year into it, my sister said to me, ‘You know, I think the detour is actually the road.’”

In her disarmingly honest way, she adds, “It’s been a hard road. We’re learning that when someone is living with chronic illness or disabilities, it’s getting adjusted to a completely new normal,” she says. “And then, “But I can’t say it hasn’t been without joys. We spend an enormous amount of time together. He probably gets so annoyed with me! But how many couple do you hear saying at the end, ‘Man, I wish I’d spent less time with my spouse.’ It’s never that,” she says. “Spending time with Martin obviously makes me happy, but it makes me a better person. That’s the blessing of it.”

I understand Laura’s words, intimately. Her song resonated in my heart and it was healing for me to sing it. I hope it touches you, too. Thanks to my darling sister in law, Karen, for introducing me to this song and Laura’s music.

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The Water is Wide---I’ve always loved this traditional folk song. It’s been sung since the 1600s, so it must resonate with people. The lyrics describe a situation that seems insurmountable. A vast expanse of water that can only be traversed in a boat for two. And a ship that’s loaded with supplies, yet “not as deep as the love I’m in.:” This is an image of love that is beyond height or depth. Beyond what can be seen or measured.

It is usually sung.as a simple folk tune, without much rhythm. For this recording, I wanted to give my son Henry a special bass line, to symbolize the undulating waters--and a chance to let my favorite trumpeter, Jeff, play a solo. So, I arranged the song as a bossa nova, and sang it in a whisper---as a gentle breeze might sound as it crosses the water.

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Potter’s Hands--I wrote this song as a student at the Eastman School of Music, in a practice room, some 30 years ago. I probably should have been working on one of my arias, but I was distracted and trying to understand my feelings. I knew I was trying too hard to be and do what I thought was expected of me. What others wanted. It just wasn’t working.

I remembered the potter’s wheel at my uncle’s house. He taught me and my brothers how to work with the wet clay, and he showed us how to make pots and bowls by gently encouraging the clay, not forcing it, into a shape. It was when we tried too hard, pushed too much, forced the clay, that it collapsed into a ball on the wheel, and we had to start all over again. I took this lesson to heart, and wrote a song about learning to surrender and trust. It’s been a lifelong lesson, and one that I keep coming back to, time and again...”Giving up the wheel and letting go, I ought to know”, but still, I need the reminder. Rest in the potter’s hands.

Jeff and I recorded this song in the 1980s. I’ve taken it down a few steps for this new recording, and my older voice, but it’s pretty much how it was. Jeff plays a lovely, lyrical flugelhorn solo, Brian’s percussion is perfect, and Robert’s gorgeous piano part brings it all together.

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You’ve Got a Friend--The Carole King Tapestry songbook lived on my family’s piano. I played every one of her songs, and sang them with gusto. I loved (and still love) how Carole could express her emotions so plainly. It was fun to sing this again and record it with Tim, (my own JT!) Henry had a blast playing the bass part. Brian sounds like a set, but he’s playing a cajon. Joe diBlasi adds so much with his beautiful guitar playing, and Jeff with his harmon mute trumpet....what could be better?

I am so blessed to have friends who love me...no matter what. My good friend Patrice, my producer Robert’s wife, modeled true friendship to me during my darkest times. On those days when I could barely get out of bed and brush my hair, she’d call and say, “Come over. I have some soup made.” She’d let me drink my soup, tears falling into the bowl. She never tried to cheer me up, or to tell me it would get better. She just let me be, and she spent time with me. When I was ready to talk, she listened.

That is the kind of friend I wish for you. The one who doesn’t need you to be anything special, just who you are. The kind of friend who’ll be there when the world starts falling in, when you’re not much fun to be around. When others desert you.

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In 2007, Jeff was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and my youngest brother died. I found myself overwhelmed with sadness. I was never mad at God, just exhausted with grief. Losing my Dad soon after felt unbearable. But I’m still here. And I found resources of strength I never knew I had. I learned all I could about Jeff’s disease and through that process, have been able to help others with MS. Jeff, Henry and I have become closer through all of this. I’ve also become a much better friend, and have met some pretty incredible individuals around the world. It hasn’t been all bad.

Jeff and I often joke, how come no one told us it would be this hard? Getting older, illness, failure, loss. It’s something we all go through. As my Dad used to say, “no one gets out alive.” We share this human condition. But we also share the good stuff. A crisp fall day, a delicious meal shared with friends, a lovely melody sung, unashamedly, out loud. I hope this music is a reminder of the good stuff. I hope it is a reminder that even in the valley, you are never alone.

I wish you well--
Joan