A Year of Wonder

I suppose a title such as this could imply looking backward or forward.  Absolutely!   

As the 25th anniversary year for Gloriae Dei Cantores comes to a close, we stand in awe of what God has brought about. Our final Gala concerts were at the beginning of December and what a joy it was to see - under one roof - so many people who have supported the work of Gloriae Dei Cantores. And moreover - to hear them share their stories!

I believe, that much like the past 25 years, every new year will bring many blessings, struggles, and surprises.

So - where do we go from here?  The sheer variety of repertoire that we were able to cover this past year was incredible! Of course, in terms of the choral literature, we have only scratched the surface of that which is available to sing. I can't wait, because when journeying with God, the level of adventure is always tremendous!

O Come!

Great Advent and the O Antiphons have held a special place in my heart ever since I was first introduced to them as a novice over 30 years ago. In fact, as novices, the tradition so fascinated us that we constructed an O Antiphon Tree and decorated it with homemade "O" ornaments like keys, roots, scrolls, stars, etc.......
They link the old and new testament in unique and clever ways. The kinds of ways that make you feel smart for discovering them.
They are the basis for the beloved carol - O Come, O Come  Emmanuel
So even today when their season arrives - advent kicks up a notch.
I sit a little more forward and try to find something new.

O Come!

What God Hath Wrought

(A letter from Gloriae Dei Cantores, printed in the program for our 25th Anniversary Gala Concert)

It was 1988, and under the direction of Elizabeth Patterson, the choir had just

finished two month-long study periods in Cambridge, England, singing more than

one hundred pieces of choral repertoire, and completing eight levels of the Royal School

of Church Music theory program, the Modus Novus sight-singing course, daily

classes of Gregorian chant, and weekly personal voice lessons. In this same year,

one of the Community’s Founders died, and the dream of the future Church of the

Transfiguration began to take shape.

We had no idea of the adventure that was about to unfold.

As the winds of dramatic change began to sweep across Eastern Europe and the

former Soviet Union, the breath of the Holy Spirit was leading the newly named

Singers to the Glory of God to sing his praises in countries that had been

closed both to America, and to the sung word of God. From the outposts of Irkutsk to

the mountains of Croatia, the choir bridged cultural and ecumenical divides,

sharing the love and hope of Christ in churches and concert halls in twenty-three

countries. No one but the Divine Orchestrator could have brought together the

people in the places at the time we were there, to fling open doors in ways that would never have been possible.

Over the years, the challenges were manifold and daunting, as we struggled

to achieve the excellence and beauty that would honor and glorify God. We

sometimes flagged -- in faith, in effort, in energy, and in charity. But there were

many who stood with us, encouraging, teaching, and challenging us to the highest

standards of performance artistry. And there were others who sacrificed time,

resources, and prayers, supporting the mission of inspiration and healing that

can come through sacred texts sung from the hearts of consecrated lives. Along

the way we had the privilege of wonderful collaborations and performance

opportunities, forming deep friendships through shared musical experiences across

this country and abroad. God took our feeble offerings, and like the miracle of the

loves and the fishes, multiplied them to feed a hungry world.

Join us tonight, as with heartfelt gratitude,

we celebrate 25 years of God’s abundant faithfulness.

Gloriae Dei Cantores

Crash

"In any real city, you walk, you brush past people, and people bump into you. In L.A, nobody touches you. We’re always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other just so we can feel something."  Opening Monologue, Crash (2004)

Keeping things at a distance makes for a life half-lived. I often feel that avoidance is the logical antidote to messy. However - I'm coming to realize that mess isn't so bad if I'm part of it.  Just like hearing an argument in another room is often far more intimidating than actually arguing.

The same is true in music. Not all works are major keys and Hallmark happy. The Magnificat was in fact as terrifying as it was joyful.  I'll only experience that if I engage.  I have to get my hands dirty - or "crash" into the music - to feel something. 

It is in the crash that new - present today - music is created.

Seeing Things in New Light

I love the fall. Especially here on the Cape. The summer has has had months to heat up the surrounding water - so frosts are delayed, but the air is still crisp. The sky morphs to a steely blue which contrasts beautifully with the browning beach grass and the water on the bay. The light changes too. It feels sharper and full of contrasts - like the weather.  I noticed it this morning on the stone walls and the bright frescoes in the church.  Even the singing sounds different. Everything seems it's best self.

Cheerful Whistling Permitted

Music has an innate ability to lift the spirits. It's a default that courses through our very being. Think about it.  How often do you choose to set out singing as you work? I never do - It just happens. (and oftentimes I'm not even aware of it until a co-worker asks me to stop)  Why is that? What is it about music that causes even tone-deaf howlers to whistle, hum, or sing unknowingly?  Worth exploring.....

Playing the Rests

"Playing the Rests" is a term or tool musicians use to help keep an ensemble together. In theatre you might say "play the pause". Essentially it means to consciously give energy and life to those moments where no notes are being played, or no words sung or spoken. Silence can never be just "time off" - it needs to be filled. Otherwise the performer is left with the arduous task of re-energizing after every rest.

It dawned on me this morning - life is a little bit like that. 

We just finished a concert - our next performance isn't until November 1. 

Inertia is a killer. The longer I take time off in the"silence" the harder it is going to be to re-energize for the next event.

Note to Self:

Play the Rests!