When people talk about music, the composer gets most of the attention. That makes sense, since the composer creates the song’s foundation. But it’s the performers who bring those notes to life, filling the music with emotion and energy. Ella Fitzgerald proves this. She didn’t have to write every song she sang to make it her own. Her true talent was in interpreting songs. She could turn any piece into something playful, sharp, elegant, and unforgettable. That’s why she’s such a clear example of what a performer can do.
Ella Fitzgerald’s musical journey makes her especially interesting to learn about. According to Britannica, she first wanted to be a dancer, but after singing at an amateur contest at the Apollo Theatre in 1934, she won first prize. The next year, she joined Chick Webb’s orchestra, and after Webb died in 1939, she led the band before starting her solo career. Over the years, she became one of the world’s most respected jazz singers. Britannica praises her skill with rhythm, harmony, intonation, and diction. The Smithsonian also notes her versatility and her ability to invent new melodies while singing, placing her alongside top instrumental improvisers.
People often overlook how important performers are. Some believe interpreting music is merely repeating what’s written. Ella Fitzgerald, however, proves otherwise. More than just singing notes, a great performer shapes pacing, phrasing, tone, and emotion. Through these choices, a song might feel intimate, witty, dramatic, smooth, or energetic. For Ella, her voice functions almost like another jazz instrument. She doesn’t simply add decoration; she becomes part of the music. That’s why performers like her matter. Without them, music remains static. With them, it becomes alive, flexible, and human.
The first song, “Mack the Knife,” was composed by Kurt Weill with lyrics by Bertolt Brecht for The Threepenny Opera in 1928 in Germany. There, it was first called “Die Moritat von Mackie Messer.” The English version, which became popular in the United States, was adapted by Marc Blitzstein. Ella’s version comes from her 1960 Berlin concert recording, Mack the Knife: Ella in Berlin. This was a live performance at the start of her European tour with the Paul Smith Quartet.
“Mack the Knife” (Live in Berlin, 1960)
What grabs me most in “Mack the Knife” is the rhythm and phrasing. The rhythm swings, but never feels stiff or robotic; there’s a groove that’s impossible to ignore. Ella sounds completely at ease, yet every note lands with precision, and that effortless balance is one of the coolest things about her style. She nudges words just ahead of or behind the beat, making the song feel like a lively conversation instead of a rigid script. Her phrasing is playful and loose, as if she’s grinning through every line. Then there’s her tone: bright, controlled, and bursting with personality. On the other hand, this song might turn theatrical, but Ella keeps it witty, vibrant, and irresistibly charming. I can’t just sit back and listen to her voice, which draws me in, as if she’s inventing the song on the spot. That’s the magic of a true performer: transforming a well-known tune into a living, breathing event.
The second song, “How High the Moon,” pairs Morgan Lewis’s music with Nancy Hamilton’s lyrics. First heard in the 1940 Broadway revue Two for the Show, it began as a dreamy ballad. The Songwriters Hall of Fame notes it’s now often played up-tempo. Ella’s Berlin performance is a masterclass in reinventing a song’s spirit without changing a note.
“How High the Moon” (Live at Deutschlandhalle, Berlin, 1960)
In “How High the Moon,” the two things that stand out most to me are the tempo and the melody. The tempo is fast and energetic, shifting the mood from dreamy to exciting. Instead of drifting, the song moves forward, giving Ella room to show her agility. The melody is even more impressive. She stretches it, plays with it, and improvises for long sections, making her voice sound almost like an instrument. I also notice the harmony in the background, supporting everything she does. The chord changes give the song structure, but Ella never seems limited by them. She moves around them freely. I really admire this performance. It feels joyful, bold, and incredibly skilled, but never like she’s trying too hard. She just does it naturally. Here, the performer’s job isn’t just to sing well, but to show how much creativity and freedom can exist in a song written by someone else. What I love most about Ella Fitzgerald is that her talent feels close to the listener. Some singers are technically great but feel distant. Ella isn’t like that. Even when she’s doing something complex, she still sounds warm, open, and inviting. That’s one of the best reasons why performers matter. A composer gives us the structure, but a performer gives us the experience. Ella Fitzgerald is an interpreter, storyteller, improviser, and emotional guide all at once. After hearing these two songs, I don’t just think about how well they were written. I think about how performance itself can be an art. That, to me, is the role of the performer.
I don’t experience Ukrainian folk music as an outsider. It’s part of who I am. That makes writing about it personal. No matter where the songs come from or what their purpose is, I always recognize something familiar: strong singing, raw emotion, and communal repetition. The music is closely tied to rituals, memory, and daily life. Ukrainian folk music is often split into two types: ritual and non-ritual. It has traditionally been connected to holidays, weddings, seasons, storytelling, and dance rather than simple entertainment. (Crees)
For this blog, I chose two selections because they show different sides of Ukrainian folk tradition. One centers on ritual singing, while the other highlights instrumental dance music. The first is “Vesnianka: The Herdsman,” performed by the Folk Ensemble of Stari Koni in the Rivne region. It comes from Ukraine: Traditional Music, a collection of traditional recordings released by Smithsonian Folkways in 1991. The second selection is “Hutsulka (Ukrainian Folk Dance),” performed by the Ukrainian State Orchestra of Folk Instruments. This recording comes from Songs and Dances of the Ukraine, released in 1957. Together, these pieces allow me to discuss both the vocal and instrumental sides of Ukrainian folk music. (Smithsonian Folkways Recordings)
“Vesnianka: The Herdsman”
Turning to what defines Ukrainian folk music, I am struck by its distinctive sound. One striking feature is the singing style called white voice (білий голос), which relies on an open throat and chest voice. The result is bright, powerful, and clear rather than soft or polished. Ukrainian folk singing also often uses polyphony, so multiple vocal lines sound at once. In northern Ukraine, the music can feature sharp intervals and dissonant harmonies, which make it feel strong and piercing rather than smooth. Traditional instruments such as the bandura, sopilka, tsymbaly, trembita, violin, and dulcimer also shape the unique character of Ukrainian folk music. (Crees)
To elaborate, the first piece, “Vesnianka: The Herdsman,” is a vesnianka, or spring song. Vesnianky are ritual songs sung in spring. They often include dances and games. They express hopes for renewal, a good harvest, and happiness. This music was not made only for listening. It served a social and symbolic role. It welcomed the new season and connected people to nature, community, and traditions. (Smithsonian Folkways Recordings)
When I listen to “Vesnianka: The Herdsman,” the first thing I notice is the texture. The sound is layered but not polished. It feels raw, open, and alive. The bright, direct voices make the music feel honest, while the simple melody gains intensity through group singing. The steady, repeating rhythm suits ritual music and makes the piece feel communal. It sounds meant to be sung together outdoors as part of a shared tradition. To me, that is what makes Ukrainian folk music so special. It does not depend on complexity to create meaning. Instead, it creates feelings through sound, repetition, and energy. (Crees)
In contrast, the second piece, “Hutsulka,” highlights another side of Ukrainian folk music. Unlike the first selection, which is ritual and vocal, this one is instrumental and made for dancing. Smithsonian Folkways describes Songs and Dances of the Ukraine as a collection of “joyous and boisterous dance music,” and the Encyclopedia of Ukraine explains that folk instruments were mainly used for dances, marches, plays, and community events. Dance music such as hopak, kozachok, kolomyika, and hutsulka was often performed by a single instrument, such as a violin, or by a small ensemble. The classic ensemble, called troisti muzyky, used strings, a drum, and tsymbaly. (Smithsonian Folkways Recordings)
“Hutsulka”
In “Hutsulka,” rhythm stands out the most. The steady beat drives the piece and gives it a lively energy, making it ideal for dancing. Repeating patterns keep the momentum strong, while the instruments blend together, each adding its own color. There is a bounce to the music that makes it feel uplifting. Even without seeing the dance, I can imagine people moving, celebrating, and gathering together. Because of that, the piece feels deeply cultural and social rather than meant for quiet, solitary listening. (Smithsonian Folkways Recordings)
I appreciate how Ukrainian folk music blends strength with tenderness. Its sharp, earthy, celebratory, and haunting qualities give it emotional depth and a unique character. Encyclopedia Britannica notes that Ukrainian folk music includes ritual songs, ballads, and dumy (narrative epics). These are often sung a cappella or with folk instruments, especially the bandura, which is considered Ukraine’s national instrument. This range helps explain why the tradition feels so expansive. Ukrainian folk music can carry history, hardship, celebration, memory, and daily ritual all at once. (Encyclopedia Britannica)
My reaction to these pieces is different from how I respond to music from other cultures. Ukrainian folk music does not sound exotic to me. It feels familiar, even when I study it academically. “Vesnianka: The Herdsman” feels haunting and deeply rooted. It almost carries old memories. “Hutsulka” feels lively and physical. It makes me think of movement, celebration, and the way music can bring people together without words. What I value most is that both pieces feel honest. They are not overly polished. That makes them powerful because they come from real people and real traditions.
Overall, Ukrainian folk music stands out for its bright, open singing, frequent use of multiple voices, strong rhythms, repetition, and the distinctive sound of traditional instruments such as the bandura, sopilka, tsymbaly, and trembita. Equally important is its cultural role: these songs and dances mark the seasons, accompany rituals, tell stories, preserve memory, and connect communities. Studying this music is not just interesting to me; it feels essential and rewarding to me as a part of who I am.
Works Cited
Encyclopedia of Ukraine. “Folk Musical Instruments.” Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies. (Encyclopedia of Ukraine)
Encyclopedia of Ukraine. “Vesnianky-hahilky.” Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies. (Encyclopedia of Ukraine)
