Sonic Portrait of Mary Daly
So today is January 5th 2010 and while I was cooking dinner this evening, I heard on the news that Mary Daly died. Out of deepest admiration and respect for such a valliant, informed, passionate, liberator I improvised a sonic portrait in honor and in remembrance of her.
I remember attending a live lecture she gave in Winston-Salem in 1990. I had just moved to Winston-Salem from San Francisco so I was familiar with women’s spirituality, lesbians, dykes and passionately radical people dancing to their own drummer. Even so, I was amazed (almost floored) at the intensity and stable core of Mary’s countenance as a lecturer. Her opening statement was, “Good evening, my name is Mary Daly and I’m a revolting hag”. She continued to deliver such a powerful message which articulated just how and why she is (was) a revolting hag. Her integrity of what she meant by being a revolting hag has influenced me ever since. It opened my eyes in ways in which they weren’t opened before, and I am eternally grateful to her teaching. Because of her, I began developing deeper respect and admiration towards elder women, (hags) and keenly seeing more and more the virtue of women’s maturity, wisdom, power and passion in ways that were eclipsed to me through my programming of how I was reared in my culture in various ways.
The sound excerpt is 13 seconds in honor of the lunar year which is a bow towards women’s spirituality. The portrait is an unedited and matter of fact improvisation (no nip and tuck, or pat and puff via editing for this portrait!) that signifies her catholic upbringing, her steadfastness, her assessable uniqueness, and liberator of women’s voices. I represent the church with the organ, with liturgical history with the A minor mode, and represent goddess cultures and spirituality with the Phrygian mode. I keep A as the tonic, providing continuity throughout the sections, and maintain an organic pulse for her portrait as she was steadfast and sturdy. She was clear, articulate, informed, and influential. She made sense. She was easy to understand because she was an excellent teacher. She delivered her message faithfully and consistently.
She was a beacon, not just a bright light. She was a rare teacher, heralding liberation for women and spiritual studies thanks to her superb education, purpose, and passion.
This brief improvisation, and blog entry is the least I can do. The most I can do is continue to learn, grow, and be as liberated as possible in homage to the purpose of her work, which I concur.
Musically yours,
Kathryn Potter