Hell Week - the morning after, Part 2

One week later: Everybody is worn out, sick, allergic, knocked-out-and-down-for-the-count and I feel like Typhoid Mary.

The weather is partly to blame - New Mexico had more rainfall this July & August than any summer in the past 112 years. That's the good news; the bad news is that there are bugs and allergens floating around that nobody has ever experienced before: swollen & red eyes, epic fits of sneezing, billowing clouds of used tissues overflowing waste baskets (and pockets), stiff and sore joints, rashes, dry skin and hives, plagues, pestilence, and all manner of flies and lice.

Within days after the concert half of the bass section and two tenors came down with bronchitis; two or three of the sopranos and altos got head-colds and laryngitis; one alto has major allergies - sneezing, wheezing and general misery; and the conductor has twisted something in her neck and is in constant pain.

For my part - I spent last week after the concerts begging for donations to cover my project budget and in that regard I blame George Bush. I don't see much point in creating a budget that's mostly fantasy. Certainly we did not exceed our budgeted expenditures (think about the parallel of foreign wars and trade deficits, here) - if anything our expenditures were somewhat under-budget. But our income was way under budget. As the Bushies would say, "Our income failed to meet expectations." And we still had not paid the director and the accompanist. What's that got to do with George Bush? (you may ask): It's the attitude that deficit spending and debt accumulation in the name of a worthy cause is a virtue. So, there I was, like some kind of karmic, latter-day Mozart - hat in hand, hitting up everyone I could think of for donations as soon after the concerts as I could - while the "spell of the music" was still on.

Okay, okay. It's not George Bush's fault.

Three months ago when I started blogging this blog, I wrote about having to put myself out there and The Dare" Juls said, "I don't know why it has to be this way for anybody else, but it has to be this way for you because you do not ask for what you want or need, and you dishonor your genius by exercising it on the cheap. There is help to be had IF YOU ASK FOR IT, and that's the not-doing-it-all-by-yourself part. You have not allowed anyone ELSE in on your dirty little secret, which is your music genius. You have to exhibit respect for your music by asking for help in producing it."

Remember that? And did I try to do this all by myself??
Did I just hope that people would open up their checkbooks and send money my way without my having to ask for it?
Should I have done this begging two months ago, instead of after-the-fact? Uh-huh!
Did I take this Dare and prove myself? Umm, NOT.

Instead, I waited. I hoped. I wished. I prayed. I wanted. I did every thing but A-S-K.

Until - in a fit of deep embarrassment and threat to whatever personal integrity I might muster - I did ask. I asked people who I was pretty sure would not say "No." I asked everybody but mother - and several people moved heaven and earth to bail me out. These ARE angels - dear, dear friends - who came to the rescue. Thank God! Thanks to these angels we are covered, our obligations are met and our debts are paid. One donor said, "This is borrowed money - but we believe in you." (Do I believe in my own genius?) Another donor said, "We may have to make some sacrifices - we're on a fixed income." (as he wrote a check from his money market fund) "... but we want to help."

And what of the dare?
It’s still hanging out there - unanswered. And I, the arrogant passive-aggressive genius am pretty much where I was before this began.

Now, dear friends, I will tell you about Hell and other lessons learned the hard way:

Hell is not about being broke or in debt. Hell has nothing to do with failure or disappointment. Hell is not being beholden or being betrayed or being arrogant or being denied or insulted or indebted. Hell is not anything that happens, nor anything you do. Hell is disconnection. Hell is a world without love. Hell is a world without music. Hell is self-denial. Hell is out there, alone and doing it all by yourself and hating yourself and everybody else for doing it alone. Hell is the void – without love, without friends, without God, without hope or resource. And that’s what Hell week is – trying to do it alone, self-abasing and self-abusing in the name of “a worthy cause.” Get it?

And here are the angels who pulled me from the jaws of my self-made hell and helped me connect again - in the music: Julie, Ben, Chuck, Beth, Gary, Connie, Erie, Susan, Viera, David, Freda, Mary Ann, Loren, Lydia, Mark, Maxine, Jim, Gay, Betsy, Johanna, Merri, Charlie, Mimi, Brianne, Sam, Mary, Nan, Ann, Bonnie. And Ariel.

Here is a sound file from the concert. "Come Thou Fount" Listen and enjoy.

Hell Week - the morning after, Part 1

Santa Fe is an old, old city. Before it became the hideously expensive, chi-chi arts center it is today it was a wilderness fort, it was the Palace of the Governors, it was a trading center for various Pueblo tribes, it was the scene of conflict and commerce dating back to the 11th Century A.D.

This is Fiesta Week in Santa Fe. I had no idea! I mean... I knew, but I certainly didn't know what this is all about: it's like the Rose Parade and the Superbowl and Mardi Gras all in one. They reinact various customs and moments in history without much context - burning Zozobra (a 50 ft statue intended to represent "gloom"), today there will be a parade: floats, marching bands, horsemen - Conquistadores and indian slaves, cowboys and indians, trappers and soldiers and indians. Mostly they party.

Okay - I am not naive - I AM oblivious! This is the very week I scheduled to produce my concert in Santa Fe. I can't say that I wasn't warned - Santa Feans emailed ahead to say that traffic is hell, so we slipped into town the back way, unscathed. The editor of the Red Earth collection (the centerpiece of the concert) just left town for the week and would not be at the concert. The music critic gave us a great write-up in the paper, then I think he left town, too.
So we had a small and very appreciative audience - it was mostly people we knew personally, or people who were escaping the revelry down on the town square: about 60 ever-lovin' souls. And what they said (afterward) was they loved it.

On stage, though, we were sweating! Pros or not, we needed more time to rehearse. Problem is - if we'd had more time, more people would have to miss more rehearsals and the result would probably be the same - good, capable but not quite gelled yet. Ben got it right: we had six years of Impromptu in Atlanta not just to learn music but to learn EACH OTHER - to become a real tight-knit group. And I wouldn't say we really knew each other - people would come and go - the group would change a little, but together we grew IN THE MUSIC. We recorded, we performed, we just sat around my dining room table and sang.

This new group is so capable and musical and we have a great sound.
This new music is wonderful - some of the best stuff I've ever written!
This director is so into the music and so well prepared and she really seems to love this music.
Everybody really does know and like the music
-- and someday soon we'll know each other as well and we can relax and roll with the punches and enjoy ourselves in the music.

But first - we have to get ready for another performance tonight. This time in Albuquerque - no Fiesta, just the State Fair week.

No sound files for you today. COME TO THE CONCERT! 7:30 at the Cathedral Church of St. John, corner of 3rd and Silver in Albu-quack-quack. If you can't make it - you can send your donations to Santa Fe Music Works, P.O. box 23198, Santa Fe, NM 87502. No kidding!

Hell Week - Open Dress

Picture this: eighteen singers, a lovely parlor Steinway grand piano, the harp is in place and in tune (for the moment), the flute is ready - low and whispy like a spirit flute, and 40 of our nearest and dearest friends alltogether in the living room of our very dearest (perhaps soon to be ex-) friend. It's just a run-through. What could happen? Lots of things could happen... and maybe they won't.... so what am I worried about. Opening night jitters? There's a lot that could go wrong this week AND everything is exactly as it should be. (remember what I said: "there are no wrong notes, only differences of interpretation.")

Here is the lesson of trust:
Trust the music.
Trust the performers.
Trust the conductor.
Trust the space.
Trust the music to the performers, the conductor and the space.
Trust the audience.
Trust myself.
To trust the music is to honor the performers and the conductor and the audience
....and myself.

The days of doing all this to honor The Patron - be it the King or the Philanthropist or the Sponsor-with-naming-rights or the Academic Review Committee - those days are over. This is just about being in the music.

Here's a sound-file for you: Let Evening Come
poem by Jane Kenyon, used with permission Graywolf Press.

Hell Week - The Fun Part

You have no idea how many things there are to forget - IMPORTANT things - until 5 a.m. on Tuesday morning of Hell Week.

Hell week is, by definintion, the concert week - last minute rehearsals, last minute publicity, last minute arrangements for chairs, music stands, lighting, recording set up, program printing, piano tuning, radio interviews, picking up artists at the airport, last minute shopping for the right blouse because your usual old favorite has seen its last performance, last minute arrangements for ushers -- and this is the list of things I remembered. God knows what I've forgotten!

This is supposed to be the fun part:

We had a long, hard-working and productive rehearsal in my dining room yesterday. Eighteen people and three dogs, electric piano and chairs for everybody (except the dogs). First run-through with the flute and harpist. First run-through with the baritone soloist... though he has not had a chance to run one of his solo songs in the context of the program, he did sing through the two songs that include chorus. Ten pieces! in the program. We did drop the three piano interludes - much to the gratitude of the pianist who is suffering the onset of arthritis in her wrists and really doesn't need to be banging on the piano any more than necessary. I'm afraid my little yamaha didn't quite meet her standards, either -

Oh, that brings me to the piano! Remember, the Cathedral doesn't have a piano? Well, actually it does - it's an old Steinway upright, which the Cathedral choir director says is insufficient for the standard of the cathedral - nevertheless, negotiations with a local music store were insufficient to make a deal for a 24 hour rental with tuning and moving, so the old Steinway will have to do. At least it stays in tune, and has a certain rustic charm which I believe is perfectly appropriate for some of this repertoire.