It’s a couple of days since the last echoes of the 2011 Carthage Christmas Festival died away, but the great pleasure and satisfaction for those of us who were part of it is still burning brightly.
Some lingering delights. . .
Oddly enough, I want to begin not with anything specifically musical- but to an unexpected moment that reminded me about the importance of tiny details. Towards the very end of Friday night’s performance, I was standing off to the side, singing “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” – the last carol sung before the very moving Service of Light and Silent Night. As I stood there singing, I was suddenly aware of someone slipping behind me to talk to the people in the next pew. It was the amazing and tireless Dr. Charlotte Chell, professor of mathematics, who has been helping to coordinate the Christmas Festival for a quarter century or more. She had slipped down to where I was because her eagle eye had caught sight of a guy with some sort of illuminated red pin on his lapel- and she wanted him to turn it off or take it off so in the midst of all the beautiful candlelight there wouldn’t be this little red light flashing insistently. I couldn’t help but be impressed at Professor Chell’s relentless devotion to the Christmas Festival and to the task of making it as beautiful and as meaningful as it can possibly be.
I am as proud as I can possibly be of the Lincoln Singers- who I continue to refer to as the Chamber Singers, or Chambies for short- but no matter what you call them, the fact is that they sang so beautifully and expressively for their contribution to the Christmas Festival. I don’t remember who it was, but someone in the band talked about how one of the nicest things about their performance was how there was nobody on a podium, waving their arms. It was just me at the piano, starting each piece and giving one or two cut offs; otherwise, they simply watched and listened to each other as though they were a string quartet – and a lot of people seemed to have deeply appreciated this moment of intimate music-making amidst all the grandeur of the Christmas Festival. And I have to mention an observation made by my wife, who felt like there was an exceptional sort of attentiveness in the chapel as the chamber singers began to sing – which to her felt as though the audience was rooting for us to sing well, almost as though we were out- numbered underdogs for whom the audience felt almost protective concern and affection. I certainly think that when more than a thousand people are listening so quietly and attentively that you can hear a pin drop, they have given you a great gift.
I am tremendously happy for the Carthage Choir, who I accompany through the year, who once again provided some incredible thrills in the Christmas Festival . . . both the splashy, splendid kind – and also the tender, exquisite kind. For the “splash,” my favorite was “Well’s Jubilate” by John Rutter, in which the choir was accompanied by Mark Paisar on the pipe organ and a brilliant brass quintet… Austin Pancer, Elizabeth Martin, Taylor Weistock, Matt Maccari and Greg Schroeder. It was the musical equivalent of setting off the most beautiful fireworks you’ve ever seen. For the “tender,” my favorite moment was a Swedish carol called “Wonderful Peace,” which apparently is as beloved and well-known in Sweden as Silent Night is here. What I still find astounding is how Maestro Garcia-Novelli spread the choir throughout the chapel – and I mean spread out through each balcony to the farthest reaches of the chapel. How they could stand apart from each other like that and still sing as one is absolutely beyond me – but they did it. It was miraculous. (That is not too strong too a word.)
I am also very thankful to the Carthage Choir and Maestro Garcia-Novelli for singing my song “Great and Glorious Light” so beautifully and movingly. . . and while I’m thanking people, I should probably thank Barbara Campbell, the wife of President Campbell. She has liked this song since she first heard it on a Christmas Festival maybe twelve years ago, and when she heard the news that it was going to be published next year by Hal Leonard, she put in a request that it be part of this year’s Christmas Festival – her last as First Lady of the college. And I was thrilled with how whole- heartedly the choir took up the song, even though to them it had to feel like a little “ditty” compared to the much more sophisticated and complex pieces they were already doing. But Maestro spent plenty of time on it, which I deeply appreciated, rather than just throwing it together and hoping for the best. He treated the song with sincere respect and the students seemed to respond in kind. In fact, by the time the performances rolled around, I wasn’t reading off the score anymore— because I wanted to be able to watch the choir sing it and enjoy the pleasure that was on many of their faces. That they sang it so beautifully was a tremendous gift to me- but the fact that they sang it so joyfully was even better.
The highlights are too numerous to discuss at length, but they include the beautifully musical and assured singing of the Chapel Choir under the sensitive direction of my friend Dimitri Shapovalov….. the joyous singing of the Women’s Ensemble under Dr. Peter Dennee, especially in a spirited piece with percussion called “Gaudete!” …. the vivid performance of the Gospel Messengers, with Gloria Tillman-Kemp leading the way so exuberantly ….. the lovely playing of Carthage’s chamber orchestra, which has come so far in a very short amount of time ….. and the absolutely spectacular playing of the Wind Orchestra and Concert Band under Dr. James Ripley. Indeed, the Christmas Festival was like an astonishing banquet of great music, where everyone had their moment to shine and the only star of the show, as it were, was that Baby in the manger.
One last highlight. . . and a somewhat surprising one. . . For “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” “Silent Night” and “O Come All Ye Faithful” I found myself standing right behind Michael Becker, one of the percussionists in the band, who was playing marimba and tubular bells. As I watched and listened, I found myself thinking back forty years to my childhood in Decorah, when I went to Luther band concerts and would find a seat up in the front row all by myself, as close to the percussion section as I could possibly sit. And it turns out that what was so thrilling to that 11-year-old is just as thrilling to this 51-year- old. Isn’t that part of the fun and beauty of this season? The child in us is awakened in all kinds of ways.
pictured above: I snapped this photo during the Friday performance. I know the picture is slightly blurred, but that’s part of why I like it.