Friday began yet another Carthage Christmas Festival, and as always it offered up a whole plethora of pleasures and delights- like the Women’s Ensemble stunning performance of “Go tell it on the Mountain” …. the Chapel Choir’s electrifying performance of “Deo Gracias” from Britten’s “Ceremony of Carols,” complete with harp accompaniment …. the Carthage Choir’s stupendous performance of two brilliant and fiendishly difficult carols by Bob Chilcott, with Carthage alum Brian Schoettler back on the organ bench …. the orchestra’s exquisite “Greensleeves” performance … the band’s magnificent work both in their own pieces and in accompanying the final “O Come, all ye Faithful” in thundering fashion …. and three different pieces which united the three main choral ensembles, including a scintillating arrangement of “I Saw Three Ships” complete with piano-four-hands and hand bell/percussion accompaniment. And that’s just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
There were some incredibly powerful moments of poignancy as well, including- and I am most haunted (in the best sense of the word) by several moments that I think will stay with me for quite a long time ….
One was from very early in the concert – when a spotlight came up on Mike Anderle, one of my voice students and a fifth-year senior who beautifully intoned a solo versicle at the beginning of the concert with that inimitable voice that I’ve had the pleasure to work with since his freshman year of high school. This is his last Carthage Christmas Festival as a performer – and it is hard not to feel more than a twinge of melancholy about that. And at the very end of the concert came the last of the student readers: senior Christian Aldridge, saying “In the Beginning was the Word …” another of my voice students. Christian was also part of a special solo trio in my piece “O Lumine Amplificus” (O Splendid Light), joining with Peter Burch and Marian Repp. The three of them have been part of Chamber Singers without interruption since their freshman year, so I crafted this moment especially for them – and I cannot get over how exquisitely they sang it. And the whole song could not have been more lovingly or expressively sung as it was by the group known affectionately as Chambies. A composer could not ask for more.
Another moment of great inspiration for me was the sight of a student who has been absent because of a rather complicated and painful personal situation. Seeing this student on the risers, singing with such joy and passion, did my heart such good. So did the sight of another student -a member of my Chamber Singers – who had just received the devastating news earlier that day that her beloved grandfather had died. I first heard the news when Olivia (she said it was okay to use her name) contacted me to explain why she would not be able to attend opera workshop that afternoon – which I certainly understood. But then I got to thinking about whether or not she was going to be traveling back home to be with her family- and thus missing Christmas Festival. Her absence from the Carthage Choir certainly would have mattered – but not quite as much as her absence from the Chamber Singers, which has only 16 members. (She is one of only two first sopranos.) I would have understood perfectly and fully supported her decision to join her family right away, but I immediately began worrying about what impact her absence would have on our performance.
But then came the follow up email firmly stating that she had decided to stay at Carthage through the weekend in order to go ahead and sing in the Christmas Festival – believing (quite rightly, I am certain) that it’s what her grandfather would have wanted her to do. And moreover, it would allow her, in her own words, “to be surrounded by her musical family in this painful time.” What a wonderful thought. And that’s exactly what she did. She told me afterwards that she shed a few tears through the course of the evening, but none while she was singing. And the image I will especially remember is of the radiant look on her face as she rang handbells for “I Saw Three Ships” in the third and final mass choir piece of the night. As I watched her do that, I was so appreciate of her perseverance in the face of her sorrow – and of the powerful force with which music can lift us up out of our heartache and into a realm of surprising joy.
I think it would probably amaze most members of the audience at our Christmas Festival – or at most choral performances of any kind – if they were somehow able to peer into the hearts and souls of the singers performing for them. I think they would discover that while some of those singers are standing up there in a state of utter euphoria, engulfed in joy ….. many other singers are singing while burdened with terrible pain of one kind or another. To twist the lyrics of a beloved old hymn, they are not singing because they’re happy – or because they’re free. They are singing while in the grips of sorrow or fear or aching disappointment – but they are singing nevertheless!
I’m working right now on finishing up a piece I’ve been asked to compose for the upcoming Choral Festival in Kenosha- the 50th such event- and I have scrapped my initial effort in order to craft piece inspired to a large extent by some thoughts shared by some middle school students in Kenosha on “Why We Sing.” Beth Smith is their amazing teacher, and as I read through some of what they wrote, I was blown away by the simplicity and wisdom of the reasons they gave for why we sing. And two of my favorites were: “I Sing to Remember” – and – “I Sing to Forget.” The two aforementioned students who sang last night were, in a sense, doing both. They were both embracing and shedding the sorrows of the moment in order to emerge from them. What courage that took! But what a blessing for them to have found that courage within themselves. And that’s why – of all of the gorgeous sights and sounds of last night’s performances – this is what touched me the most profoundly: the simple sight of these young people up on the risers, doing what they love to do, drawing Life and Joy from the Gift of Song.
Like two candles shining brightly – and bravely – in the darkness ….. amidst hundreds of other candles.
What a beautiful sight.
Pictured below: Dr. Eduardo Garcia- Novelli with the seniors of the Carthage Choir. They will be SO missed. And below that, a moment from the concert which gave me special pleasure and pride: The very first singing voice heard in the concert was one of my voice students, Austin Merschdorf. His rich, warm baritone voice was just what that important moment called for.
