Marv Lofquist leans on his wife, Elaine, to help him put on his shoes in the morning or remind him which way the bathroom is in their Golden Valley apartment. But when they sing together, it’s often Marv’s bass-baritone voice that leads the way.
More than a decade after being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, Marv can still read sheet music at first glance and often knows the notes before his wife does. When the couple, both in their 80s, rehearse with their choir, Elaine can forget what can seem like an all-consuming reality: that she is Marv’s primary caregiver.
“I feel like we’re on a date together, doing something we both love,” says Elaine, who started singing with Marv when they were in the high school choir. “You forget your daily frustrations. Singing is something we’ve been able to do for years.”
Dementia is a thief of words. A memory twister. A threat to navigation. But somehow, people who don’t remember names or a conversation from just a few minutes ago can still sing along, sinking into lyrics half a year old -century. Music provides dementia patients with many brain health benefits, and new research shows it can also strengthen their relationships with their care partners.
These benefits were on full display when I attended a rehearsal of the Lofquists’ choir, Giving Voice, created a decade ago in Minnesota for people with dementia and their caregivers. The network has grown into a national movement, having helped launch 60 similar choirs across the country and currently operating five in the Twin Cities. Local choirs are preparing for a 10th anniversary concert at Orchestra Hall on June 9.
Performing in public and bringing joy to a live audience is an essential part of Giving Voice’s mission. Performance shows that people can maintain their dignity and sense of purpose long after diagnosis. Watch a show, said executive director Eyleen Braaten, and “you might change your mind about what it means to live with dementia.”
Gathered in the pews at Meetinghouse Church in Edina, many members living with Alzheimer’s disease sing, dance, play simple instruments and sway to the rhythm.
“This church has never seen so many hips moving!” cheered Joey Clark, one of Giving Voice’s choir directors, who led about 175 people in vocal warm-ups.
Among the cast were another couple, Concepcion Galvan and Angel Torres. Galvan was diagnosed with dementia in 2012 and his symptoms intensified over the years. But when she sings in the choir, Galvan said, it reminds her of herself.
Torres, a retired welder, said singing revives his wife’s vivacity.
“She and I sang all the time in church or together, so coming back to the choir reminds her of that and takes us back to when we were younger,” he said via a interpreter. “What is in the past, she remembers very well. She knows the words.”
The science of why
Musical memory is often the last to decline in people with dementia. But why ?
Dr. Vijay Ramanan, a cognitive neurologist at the Mayo Clinic, says a likely explanation is that music engages different parts of the brain, involving connections that crisscross the organ. Because music is not housed in a central area of the brain, the ability to sing or play an instrument may remain intact long after other functions have disappeared. Hearing music can also evoke emotions and other memories associated with a particular song.
Vladimir Garrido Biagetti, artistic director of Giving Voice who directs the Sabios Cantores choir in Minneapolis, works extensively with first-generation Latino elders. Many experienced isolation in Minnesota after their children left.
When he got to know the choir members, he asked them open-ended questions about the music of their childhoods. They talked about the rhythm of the crickets when they worked on the farms. Or indigenous folk music. Garrido Biagetti incorporated these elements, along with Spanish lyrics, into the songs they now sing.
“It’s a way for them to go back in time,” explains Garrido Biagetti. “They feel like they matter. They have a place. They have a voice.”
Yet their genius can also emerge when learning new music. He remembers Galvan, the woman with Alzheimer’s disease, looking particularly lost one day during rehearsal. But together, they started creating original verses and a chorus, and she just took off. “She was playing,” he remembers. “The words didn’t exist, but she sang them.”
Music is a complex activity, Ramanan explained. Processing or playing music stimulates new connections between brain cells and strengthens existing ones. And when you make music with friends and family, it deepens social connections – which might have suffered during the pandemic. In his practice, he worked with patients whose families noticed sharp cognitive declines when we were all cooped up indoors.
It’s encouraging to hear about programs that engage people with dementia as well as those who care for them long-term, he said. Singing is a way to find joy, both for the patient and the caring partner.
“Managing Alzheimer’s disease can’t just be about medications and disease-specific treatment,” Ramanan said. “It has to be about the whole person, and that includes their loved ones as well.”
As teenagers, Galvan and Torres lived across the street from each other in Mexico. At the time, a song by Argentine singer Leo Dan, “Esa Pared,” became the couple’s anthem. It is a wall that separates two lovers, a metaphor for their childhood, when they were young neighbors in love, living apart.
Today, that barrier is Galvan’s dementia, but music is a bridge that keeps the couple connected.
Torres still sings the song to him every day and his wife sings it back.
“I see her remembering everything,” he said, “so we keep singing it.”
If you are going to
Five Twin Cities choirs managed by Giving Voice will perform together at Orchestra Hall in Minneapolis on June 9 at 2 p.m. Tickets are available at www.minnesotaorchestra.org.