A circle within a circle, a fantastically tangled web, or a magical tapestry “of rich and royal hue?”
All of these. And more.
Today has been a day of music and gratitude. I am struck by the threads of music that keep going and going through my life. So many different threads from so many different times, but they all keep going. The threads are different types of music and musical experiences, and I wonder how it is they all appeared and ultimately coexist - apparently (so far) for as long as I do.
Music in my life started early, hearing my parents sing, singing with them, and yes - playing a wicked mean kazoo solo on San Francisco Bay Blues while my dad played. I was drawn to every opportunity to make music in school. My very first “own” record albums were inherited from a grandma - one twangy country western album and one very groovy mid-70s disco album. My very first album purchased with my own money? Rick Springfield - Success Hasn’t Spoiled Me Yet! This was followed by J Geils, Cory Hart, Zeppelin, Violent Femmes, Ramones, Howard Jones, etc... I started singing in choir at school when the 5th grade instrumental teacher at my school crushed my hopes and dreams of playing a delicate silver flute. I refused any other instrument and never looked back. Singing, for me, please!
Who in the world would have guessed back then that I would study voice? Classical song literature? Opera?!? And who from my intensive study years would have guessed I’d eventually land in management - at a world renowned non-profit acoustic folk music venue? And who from my “tween” music years (side note: “tween” wasn’t even a thing back then!) might possibly have guessed that when I was a boring middle-aged adult I would be meeting the likes of Peter Wolf from the J. Geils Band, and The Proclaimers, and John Oates at work? For that matter, who from my childhood would have guessed that I’d be working around performances by the likes of Arlo Guthrie, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, and Joan Baez? Who from any moment in any life thinks they’ll end up with a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis? And who ever imagines that a life of singing, a love of baseball that seems very removed from singing, and a diagnosis of MS will converge to lead to singing the national anthem at a major league ballpark? There is only one possible explanation. This can only be magic.
Through every last bit of all of this - and through all the rest of life - I have become and remain a choral singer through and through. A quick tally just now indicates I’ve spent a solid 37 years singing in choral groups. I did not have the voice (or any inkling of such) in 5th grade that I had through college and after, and I certainly do not have the voice now that I had 20ish years ago. But I have gratitude for every musical bit I have ever had access to. I have deep love for Lyle Miller, Dr. Lynda Hasseler, Jane Ring Frank, and Donna Tozer Wipfli for the choral experience with all of their groups - and now also for Benjamin Cohen, whose group I sang with today. There is no experience I know quite like making music with other voices. It is possible to sing beauty - and pain, and joy, and humor, and love, and hate, and life, and death, and history, and fantasy, and simplicity, and complexity, and everything. And it’s simply magic to get to have these experiences.
Today we sang a performance at the regional American Choral Directors Association conference. Within minutes of arriving at the conference site (WMU in Kalamazoo) this afternoon, I had met a vendor who worked with an accompanist I sang with decades ago - and who still works with singers I sang with 10-15 years ago, and who was selling sheet music including a large collection of pieces with connections to my undergrad school Capital University. Moments later, I bumped into Dr. Lynda Hasseler - our choral conductor now and then at Capital. Before performing? Backstage I spotted someone I felt certain I knew, and I even felt strongly that I knew his first name. But I wasn’t sure. When the choir (from Alma College) performing after ours took the stage? The man I thought might be named Tony took the stage as their accompanist. Yes, indeed - Anthony Patterson. Who accompanied The Capital University Chapel Choir when I sang there. And the threads keep going, and it seems none of them ever break or wear out or fray. I am sometimes worn out and frayed, and feeling close to breaking. But those threads pop out and remind me of the magic that is music and singing. And singing and music.
I will raise my voice for as long as I possibly am able.
My life does, indeed, “flow on in endless song.”