Old Friends

When certain pieces of music have been in our repertoire for 25 years, or even 5, they become like old friends.  Picking up the piece is like a flash-back - stories of concert stages in foreign countries, faces we came to know personally, hours bent over the piece analyzing structure and form and asking God for a vision of what the composer was saying.  The music itself shows signs of familiarity - greasy finger-prints at the corners, spines that have been stapled and re-stapled.  And there's always that slight sense of letting out a breath when we see it's something we've wrestled with and come to love.  But, just like an old friend, there are always new layers to discover.  We sing the Mass for Double Choir by Frank Martin this weekend.  I remember cracking the piece for the first time and it felt so daunting.  Long sustained phrases with subtle movement requiring extreme sensitivity to all the other parts.  We've absorbed and lived with it now for a few years and I think it's safe to say we all love the work.    And it's incredible that still, after all this time, there are things we haven't discovered, a nuance we missed before.  And because WE change, and music lives, there are always fresh perspectives or a new vision to bring to it.  So that music, like an old friend, never becomes "old-hat"

Martin Mass for Double Choir

The choir is singing Frank Martin's Mass for Double Choir this weekend. It is a stunning Mass. I can still remember the first time I heard this work. Timeless......  It is obviously a 20th century composition - but it has the depth and gravitas of centuries ago. Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow. If you can make it to the Church of the Transfiguration this weekend - please do. If not, click on this link and listen to a brief clip of the Kyrie. http://youtu.be/6ftFitCl478

Value Added

"Not adding value is the same as taking it away."  Seth Godin

All too often I'm content to just play what is written. Unfortunately, that is not really making music - It's simply doing what I'm told.  If I don't risk adding my life to the instructions on the page then I have shortchanged the process and shrunk my world.  But, if I do take the risk - the possibilities are endless.

Muscle Memory

Someone turned on a recording of Respighi's "Pines of Rome" last night.  My head popped up from what I was doing and craned to hear the melody that I haven't heard in probably 15 years - and I was caught up in the movement of it - back to a time in my teenage years when I was in a dance performance of "The Prodigal Son" and that was the opening piece.  Amazing how a piece of music can do that - recall all the senses of a time - as if it actually lives somewhere in your body waiting to be woken up. I think about what it must be like at this 25th anniversary for those who have been in the choir all this time. Each piece houses a set of memories and emotions, and just the opening notes can transport us back, like a musical time machine. And the amazing thing is, if we are generous with our experience, anyone hearing can come too. We can see the faithful Russian people in worship houses destroyed and rebuilt, hear the sounds of Herbert Howells ringing through an English cathedral, and feel the hope of faithful people in Albania having endured such suffering.  What an incredible gift music is, and what a journey.

Stories

Madeleine L’Engle writes, “It is not easy for me to be a Christian, to believe twenty-four hours a day all that I want to believe. I stray, and then my stories pull me back if I listen to them carefully. I have often been asked if my Christianity affects my stories, and surely it is the other way around; my stories affect my Christianity, restore me, shake me by the scruff of the neck, and pull this straying sinner into an awed faith.”
This helps me explain to myself why I need creative arts. I’m not a writer, but the “stories” that “pull me back” often come through learning music. These stories could be in preparing a Mass by one of the great masters, like Mozart, or in studying how the harmonic language of Herbert Howells can work so beautifully to paint poetry in sound.  An “awed faith” is a good description for the moments in singing that move me deeply, rattling something in my inner core that I can neither articulate, nor conjure up on my own, yet I know has happened.  I’m often scared at the power of these sporadic, unknown emotions which I don’t know what to do with; but these gifted moments are awe-inspiring enough to change my mood, to let me believe, and to send me back to the practice room to listen and hope for more.

Giving Back

True education is all about giving back. Over the last few months I have been in the presence of some great teachers. People who are accomplished, even famous, in their field of expertise. What I find so inspiring is not just what they share - but why they share. It goes beyond paycheck or occupation - and becomes vocation. They love what they do so much that they are compelled to share. It's changed their lives and they want it to change ours. That passion is contagious and it creates a desire to learn.
This concept could - if we let it - if we dive in with both feet - not only enhance how we learn, but change how we live. Imagine what it would be like at school, at home, at work..... if we all just "gave back". 

Surprised by Something New

In the closing week of 2012 I attended the the opening performance in Gloriae Dei's 25th Anniversary Concert Series. I'm not a classical music fan by nature.  I went to honor the 25 years of dedication and commitment - and support the singers (most of whom, are my closest friends).  It was such an unexpected gift. Connections between Langlais and Durufle, Sviridov alongside Bach, teens singing next to seniors, the beautiful mosaics and frescoes....  A perfect way to close out the year.
I've heard them sing hundreds of times (literally) - but it was different.  I look forward to being surprised by something new throughout 2013.  God bless you GDC - and thank you for 25 years!