I can still remember the moment when Dr. Peter Dennee, the chair of the music department, announced at our music faculty meeting back in February that Laura Kaeppeler- who graduated with a music major in 2010 – would be returning to Carthage on the 15th of March. . . her first time back on campus since that extraordinary night in January when she was crowned Miss America. The plan from the start was that the concert would be a showcase for Laura, first and foremost, but it would also be a chance for our students to collaborate with her by having her perform with both the Carthage Choir and Wind Orchestra. And because I played for her voice recitals, Laura asked if I would accompany her on the piano for Arditi’s “Il Bacio,” the sparkling coloratura showpiece which she sang on the televised pageant. No one has ever said a quicker or more unreserved YES than I did to that request!
I suspect that part of what precipitated the idea of Laura soloing with our two flagship ensembles was because during her senior year Laura was soprano soloist with the Wind Orchestra in a set of four songs based on the poetry of Carl Sandburg. Laura was delighted at the prospect of revisiting those songs, which suited her so beautifully. But what could she sing with the Carthage Choir? She had been a valued member of the ensemble for most of her time at Carthage, but was never really featured as a soloist – at least not in the kind of song that would have been appropriate for a concert like this. Moreover, this was a scenario in which rehearsal time was going to be extremely limited- so trying to put together a piece brand new both to her and to the choir would have been an incredibly risky and difficult venture. So it was decided that something would need to be arranged especially for the occasion in which Laura could sing a song already familiar to her, with the choir offering up a choral accompaniment of sorts. And almost right away, one of her voice teachers – either Amy Haines or Corinne Ness – came up with the wonderful idea of Lee Hoiby’s “Where The Music Comes From” – a gorgeous and meaningful song which Laura had sung on her senior recital. The music was beautiful and the words were perfect for the occasion, and I was only too happy to write some choral parts for the Carthage Choir to sing with Laura.
It turned out to be a much trickier challenge than I ever imagined it would be, because I needed to write parts that would be fairly reticent . . . so the choir would be in the background and not encroaching on the spotlight, so to speak . . .and yet I was anxious to write parts that would be interesting and gratifying for the choir to sing. (As I think I may have put it the day I first shared my arrangement with the choir, “Laura is Gladys Knight- and you guys are the Pips.”) But I’m pretty sure that the Pips don’t get to sing anything very interesting or challenging, and I really worked hard to make the choir’s part a step or two above “Pip-dom.” It was with some trepidation that I finally brought the arrangement to the choir to play it for them, and I have never been more relieved to see smiles around the room! The choir knew what this concert was all about and I so appreciated their enthusiasm for my modest little arrange- ment and Maestro Garcia-Novelli’s careful attention to nuance and detail. Simple though it was, he was not about to have them give anything less than their very best to it.
Writing that arrangement absorbed almost all of my energy and worry, so it wasn’t until the night before the concert that I suddenly realized that given the crazy complexity of Laura’s life these days, it was entirely possible that she might not have a copy of the sheet music for “Il Bacio” with her – which would have left us high and dry! So the next morning I got to Carthage one hour early just so I could go digging through the mountains of old scores I have, fairly certain that there was a copy of “Il Bacio” somewhere. I dug for 10…. 15….. 20….. 25….. 30….. 40….. 45 minutes before I FINALLY came across an ancient copy of the music which I had bought for ten cents at the Lincoln, Nebraska Public Library’s used book and music sale back in 1983. Of course it looked more like one of the Dead Sea Scrolls, and the brittle pages tore a little more every time they were turned… but at least I had the music! Eventually, Amy Haines answered my frantic S.O.S. from the night before with her own copy of “Il Bacio” – a copy which didn’t threaten to disintegrate every time you breathed on it, which made it infinitely preferable to mine!
It was finally 2:30 Thursday afternoon that I got to meet Laura in Siebert Chapel to rehearse “Il Bacio.” She could not have looked more radiant – but what delighted me much more than that was that she was the same sweet, gracious young woman she had always been. And it underscored for me that Laura is an example of the best kind of beauty – the sort of beauty that does not make everyone else feel left out or ordinary or awkward. Laura’s beauty, which is beauty as much on the inside as the outside, makes everyone around her feel special. And if anything should be a requirement for a Miss America, that’s it!
Our rehearsal went well, once we had figured out exactly what cuts she was taking in “Il Bacio” – which was no small matter. In fact, that was one of the two potential nightmares which haunted me until the concert was over. . . that I would mistakenly play one of the passages of the song that was supposed to be skipped- which would have been so easy to do but caused nothing less than a musical catastrophe. But fortunately, I kept track of all of the cuts, avoided any egregious clunkers, and helped us make some nice music together. Laura is a really fine all-around musician, and that made this and every other part of this concert such a great pleasure. Her performance with the Wind Orchestra went very well- and I was especially happy with how “Where the Music Comes From” went. From my perch at the piano, I had the perfect view of the Carthage Choir and could really feel the sense of pleasure and pride they were feeling at being part of this great occasion – especially those members of the choir who had been around long enough to know Laura personally. What a special thrill this had to be for them. . . and for all of us.
By the way, my second nightmare of the night was that my slightly defective tux pants would choose an inopportune moment to fall down around my ankle in front of God and everyone, which would have been, to put it mildly, quite unfortunate. I’m happy to say that my pants stayed up for the entire concert and reception. But as I was locking up my studio and preparing to go home after the reception, I turned to walk down the halls and FWOOP….. my tux pants were down around my ankles just like that. I was actually sort of glad it happened (and grateful beyond words that no one was around when it did) because it made me even more thankful for the enchanted evening that had just ensued.
pictured above: During the reception after the concert, a photograph was taken of Laura with all of the music faculty who were present: Peter Dennee, Mark Petering, Eduardo Garcia-Novelli, Amy Haines, James Ripley, Woody Hodges, and me. (Jane, Corrine and Dimitri were absent.) After that, Dr. Dennee suggested a photo be taken with the three faculty who had hands-on roles in the concert itself: Eduardo, who conducted the Carthage Choir, Jim, who conducted the Wind Ensemble, and me. That was so gracious of Peter, who really should have been in that photo as well, because nobody worked harder to make this all happen.
By the way, I recorded an interview that afternoon and it will air Thursday morning, March 22nd, 8:11 a.m., on the morning show.
One last thing: These are the exquisite words of Lee Hoiby for his song “Where the Music Comes From.” I thought they were so perfect for this occasion:
I want to be where the music comes from.
Where the clock stops, where it’s now.
I want to be with the friends around me
who have found me, who show me how.
I want to sing in the early morning…
see the sunlight melt the snow…
and oh! I want to grow!
I want to wake to the living spirit
here inside me where it lies.
I want to listen till I can hear it.
Let it guide me and realize
that I can go with the flow unending,
that is blending, that is real . . .
and oh! I want to feel!
I want to walk in the earthly garden
far from cities . . . far from fear.
I want to talk to the growing garden,
to the devas, to the deer
And to be one with the river flowing,
breezes blowing, sky above . .
and oh! I want to love!