Trinity Sunday

It's another beautiful morning here in Murfreesboro. The quiet, cool, early summer mormings have begun.

I note that this is my 100th blog post since starting this blog in March 2005. I've enjoyed doing this as a hobby and as a way of connecting with people. Thanks to Martin Tiller, my friend who started blogging and got me interested. Also, thanks to Jeff Prillaman who took up blogging around the same time.

While I'm thanking folks -
This summer I hope to get a lot of composing done. As I find myself getting more comfortable in my composer skin, I have been reflecting about the people who have helped with that transformation.

Stefan Waligur, a composer Kathy and I met a few years ago in D.C., shared a CD of his work with us. The work is clear, worshipful, and can incoroprate musicians of all levels. I found the style very moving and liberating to me as a composer. The first thing I wrote that I felt really good about was my Christmas cantata which was influenced by Stefan's work.

James M. Guthrie, my colleague here at Chowan, is the other influence I am deeply appreciating. Dr. Guthrie is a superb composer - gifted and highly skilled. His great gift to me has been simply recognizing me as a composer, which frees me to produce without becoming entangled in judging my own output.

Tomorrow night I have a concert. Yesterday I found myself not knowing quite where I was technically or musically with the music I'm playing. On the eve of Trinity Sunday, I am reminded that symbolic practice is very helpful in such a situation. By "symbolic practice" I mean structuring one's practice time using meaningful numbers (such as thre)e from the Christian tradition.

I've known the works I'm playing for some time, but some sections don't feel totally secure at the moment. Trusting that three (or seven or twelve {rarely twelve!}) focused repetitions of these passages will reconnect me with my history of work with this music is very useful in keeping my practice realistic and keeping me on a good plane emotionally!

This morning I also returned to another practice I gravitate to from time to time: praying through my repertoire. Here I ask what I want the audience to get from each portion of each work, and pray for that to come to pass. This approach teaches me a lot about the music, and it helps me to make music with a consciousness of God.

Juxtaposition

Now that the school year has come to a close, there is a little time for blogging again.

Chowan ends the academic year with an interdisciplinary symposium that involves faculty from all disciplines in exploring a single topic. This year, that topic was the environment. In addition to this forum, there is also a symposium of student research and other special events. This gives the end of the year an exciting flavor and energy that are decidedly scholarly and informative.

The culminating event of this year's symposium (as well as the music department's year) was a performance of parts I and II of Haydn's Creation. This involved the student choir and neighborhood chorus, members of the Meherrin Chamber Orchestra and Virginia Symphony, and soloists Lori Parker (an excellent soprano who happens to be married to our conductor,) Walter Swan (a vibrant singer who taught here in past years,) and my good friend, tenor Jeff Prillaman. Kathy, my wife, was in the horn section. I played viola, and another good friend from Richmond, Jeremy McEntire, played flute.

I list all that information about these personal connections because the personal connectedness of this performance is part of what made it very special. Many people who have known each other, worked together, or taught and studied with each other, worked independently for awhile, then came together to create a rich tapestry of musical and spiritual energy.

Now for the juxtaposition part. During the intermission of this sublime work about the creation of the world, more details started to arrive about the tornadoes in nearby Suffolk, VA. One person onstage received a phone call with the number 200 in it, and it wasn't totally clear if that 200 referred to deaths or injuries. Fortunately, it only referred to injuries.



Here's a bit of musical trivia from my experience. Haydn sets words about the creation of insects with a little text painting from the violas. I almost didn't play the section as I thought the professionals next to me would do it very well and that I might mar their efforts. But I decided that it was such a quintessential viola moment that I should play it for experience's sake. I did, and I think it was okay. In fact, Jeff was impressed by this "swarm" for the first time in our performance.