I suppose any current college students reading this are not likely to recognize these lyrics from a Peaches and Herb song that dates from several centuries before they were born, but the words were the best summary I could think of for last night’s reunion between the Carthage Choir and Weston Noble, one of the country’s most esteemed choral conductors – a living legend – a towering giant . . . pick your cliche, he more than measures up to it.
Mr. Noble served as guest conductor of the Carthage Choir last year, stepping into the void left by the sudden, unexpected and unfortunate resignation of Michael Burkhardt. It was department chair Jim Ripley who came up with the idea – which to this day still strikes me as positively nutty – of asking Weston Noble, recently retired from Luther, if he could possibly find time in his busy schedule to give some time to the Carthage Choir. Never in Dr. Ripley’s wildest dreams – nor in mine- did we ever expect that in fact he would be with us for the entire year. . . and I also don’t think that either of us fully expected that he would end up leaving such a deep impact upon the choir as a whole and in the lives of the individuals of the choir who sang under his inspiring leadership. I certainly knew that he would create some excitement and fun – but being 85 years old, it would not have surprised me if he had been a rather fleeting figure for the students, appearing for choir rehearsals but otherwise retreating behind closed doors, resting and guarding his steadily diminishing strength.
Fortunately, I didn’t make any wagers on my prediction (it’s a good thing my bookie was out of town) because in fact the year played out so much more differently than that! Mr. Noble grabbed hold of this group with all of his heart and strength and gave everything he had to give to it, and the student replied in kind. And that was richly evident on commencement day last year, if you watched members of the choir say goodbye to Mr. Noble with heartfelt hugs and free-flowing tears.
From the moment Eduardo Garcia-Novelli announced (a few weeks ago) that Mr. Noble was coming back for a guest appearance the students have been buzzing about it in joyous anticipation. And last night, the wait was finally over . . . and the moment Mr. Noble walked into Siebert Chapel for last night’s choir rehearsal, the love was flowing just as I knew it would. Various choir members came over for what became a long succession of smiles and embraces – and as he greeted various choir members and then got started on the rehearsal itself, I was absolutely staggered at how clearly he remembered those students. When someone is 86 years old, you expect that they will vividly remember churning butter with their great-grandmother back on the old homestead when they were but a youngster- but will not necessarily remember what they had for breakfast yesterday. . . and certainly not remember college students that they have not seen in almost a year. Not that he remembered their names. Even when I was at Luther, he would often refer to a student by the name of their hometown, “Rochester” or “Sioux City” or whatever. And last year at Carthage, he might call Brett Harmeling “Mr. Golf Pro” or Maureen Toomey “Miss Musical Theater” or Kristen Barnes “Rochester” since she’s from Rochester, Minnesota. So it’s not that he has this perfect memory for names- he doesn’t now and he never did. But he remembers people like no one else I have ever known and demonstrated that last night in spades. He would see a student and immediately know that they had cut their hair or dyed their hair or had new eyeglasses or that they ran track or had a sprained ankle last year. . . or whatever. He has this uncanny ability to make you feel like you matter to him . . . because, in fact, you do. And as he conducted last night’s rehearsal, he would stop sometimes in mid-sentence when he recognized someone on the risers and just stop long enough to say “Hey, there- nice to see you again” with a little twinkle in his eye. The man is a genius, and not just with choral music and conducting and rehearsal technique and music in general. Weston Noble’s greatest genius may be in how he understands people – and our fragility and vulnerability – and our aching need to know that we matter. And when it’s all said and done, and it’s time to look back on the life and career which he has had, this may be the most important legacy he leaves behind him. Not the awards and honorary doctorates . . . not the performances in Lincoln Center or the Mormon Tabernacle . . . not the recordings . . . but rather all of the singers over these last sixty years who were made to feel special and wanted and needed and remembered and loved. What matters more than that?
pictured above: some of the first hugs of the night- left to right: Zach Wolf, Laura Kaeppler, Justin Pratt (in mid-hug) and Beth Hughes.