Remembering Gordon and Richard

In Canada we are approaching Thanksgiving weekend, and the weather gods have granted us a preview of the inevitable fate we in Edmonton encounter every year, an early snow.  Not much; just enough to force one to reluctantly haul out the faux-sheepskin jacket and faux-leather winter gloves, and wield a snow shovel behind the garage.  Tonight happened also to be my first rehearsal night with our university orchestra on a Haydn Creation project (celebrating, with many other choirs, the 200th anniversary of his death).  The concert is exactly one month from today in our gorgeous Winspear Concert Hall in downtown Edmonton. The players are doing well, but I was reminded about how many damned notes there are in that piece, and a lot of them in difficult passages!  Especially for the violins.  Our choirs have been hard at it for over a month now, and despite the classic struggles with the German text (in the Pilkington/Novello edition where it is written below the English text, quite far from the notes), they are already making the occasional unified joyful noise.  And all the while, celebrating the exuberant beauty and freshness of Papa Haydn at his very best.

As so often in our lives, these moments of ecstasy in the midst of music making with master pieces (this one describing new life in all its beauty) are often tinged with the sadness of having to watch the passing of dear friends and acquaintances.  The past few days and weeks have been particularly difficult, with the loss of several close acquaintances whose lives and talents I had the good fortune to intersect with and benefit from as a conductor.  I want to write about two of them.

Gordon Morash, a journalist who had uncommon gifts as a writer of non-fiction, and especially so when it came to writing columns about his favourite pastimes, books, good food, wine and single malt, was also a passionate and devoted bass in my symphonic choir for nearly two decades.  Having grown up in the counter-culture era of Edmonton in the 1960s and 70s, he had honed his craft as a singer in various rock and folk bands, but later in life his passions turned to great solo vocal and choral music.  You have all met such singers in your choirs before - the kind who will take the time to bring you a favourite column or article from the New Yorker or The NY Times on some topic related to the work we are studying; the kind who will take the time to write you after a successful rehearsal or concert, and eloquently state their case for having been transported in the moment.  Two years ago we learned of his initial diagnosis with abdominal cancer, and his friends in the choir shared both the highs and lows of his epic struggle.  My last visit with Gordon came at his re-audition in early June, in which he sang Handel's "Where e'er you walk" (poignant choice, in retrospect), and he looked absolutely fabulous (and sounded great too!)  Having been away for much of the summer, I did not have any further contact with him until I heard the shocking news of his rapid decline and death, all within a few days in late August.  We celebrated his life and many loves a few weeks later with choruses from Elijah and Ein deutsches Requiem, two of his favourite choral works.  At our first rehearsal after his passing, some friends in the choir left an open chair with a copy of the Verdi Requiem (which we open our season with) on it and Gordon's name taped to the chair.   He is greatly missed.

Tonight I am further saddened by the loss of a former tenor in my choir, Richard Horch, also to cancer.  Richard and I also go back a long ways; even before he was a member of our choir, I had gotten to know him and his dear wife Betty through the local Mennonite congregation I was attending at the time.  An organist and outstanding tenor, Richard was one of those indomitable spirits who insisted on finding positives in every situation, and I am forever grateful to him and Betty for their generous caregiving as friends in some rather dark and difficult times.  This summer I did have an opportunity to visit him at his home in Abbotsford BC where he had retired a number of years ago, at a time when it was already clear that he would not be long with us.  We sat for over an hour listening to a range of choral and organ recordings that his daughter Ruth played.  We reminisced about some of his favourite choral experiences with our choir - St. Matthew Passion and the Missa Solemnis, amongst others.  We laughed about shared memories.  He died peacefully this evening.  Rest in peace, my dear friend.  This will be a Thanksgiving with a slightly different hue.

This ephemeral summer...

Well, it has been embarrassingly long since I last wrote an entry here.  Various excursions both abroad and in this fair country have come and gone, along with numerous enjoyable (and sometimes frustrating) golf games and relaxing barbecues, have more or less eaten up the remaining months of my leave from my teaching post, and now it is time to harness all the horses (no, I won't push this metaphor any further) and start the annual trek down the choral trail.

Not that the summer was completely devoid of interesting and inspiring choral events.  In late June, armed with a somewhat defenseless VISA card with a far-too-high spending limit, I embarked on a two-week cruise (first timer) of the Baltic Sea, aboard a Holland America liner.  No, no choral music on the boat (unless we loosely refer to the productions in the theatre, but I won't go there), but the trip did bring with it some interesting brushes with choral history.  The first was Copenhagen, our departure port, where a year earlier many choral professionals had gathered for the IFCM's World Symposium on Choral Music.  Spending a few more days in that glorious city (getting over jetlag before embarking on the cruise) brought back many wonderful memories of the fabulous concerts and very special friendships renewed.  Then, on the cruise, our third port of call was at Tallin, Estonia, a city in which political and choral histories have meshed in such an inspiring fashion over centuries, but in particular during the last several decades.  As I walked the wonderful cobblestone streets of the upper and lower towns, I was reminded of my last visit to this city, in 1990, as part of the Stockholm World Symposium event, which had included optional visits to Helsinki and Tallin.  At that time, Estonia was still under Soviet rule.  Vivid recollections of the glorious music we heard there, including a recreation of the legendary Song and Dance Festivals held there every five years, and a concert of the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir and other choirs, at which the Minister of Culture made a speech that encapsulated the resolve of these people to find their freedom from foreign rule and oppression, made this day all the more memorable.  As many will know, this was the summer for the Festival to occur, but unfortunately I was there a week early so could not attend.  

The cruise also took us to the main Scandinavian ports, and although there was not time to scout out and attend any concerts, having opportunities to reconnect with these amazing centres of musical and choral culture was inspiring in itself. After disembarking in Dover, we took a train into London and spent two days there before flying back to Canada.  As in past trips, I took advantage of my sojourn in London to hear two Evensongs, at St. Paul's and at the Abbey, and was lucky to hear these two amazing choirs before their summer breaks.  An extra treat was enjoying the Abbey choir's Mag and Nunc during what turned out to be a major thunderstorm with lots of hail.  The Abbey reverberated with the sounds of hail pelting the vaults and windows, and nearly drowned out the choir at times!!  

When in London, expect that you will find at least a half dozen interesting musical events a night to choose from, even in early July.  So it was that, checking out the listings in Time Out, the city's most reliable events calendar, I found two choral events to attend.  The first was a concert at the Barbican, featuring performances of Fauré's Requiem and A Sea Symphony by Vaughan Williams by a choir I had not heard of before, the Crouch End Festival Chorus, accompanied by what must have been a freelance pick-up ensemble, the London Orchestra da Camera.  As it turns out, this chorus of 100+ singers has a very fine reputation, and hearing them I could see why - impeccable intonation, diction and vocal power where needed.  The conductor David Temple led with complete assurance, bringing out all the lyricism and drama in both of these beautiful works.  

The following evening found me searching for (and eventually finding) St. Andrew, Holborn, to hear one of James MacMillan's more extended choral works, Seven Last Words from the Cross, in an incredible performance by the Scottish Ensemble, the instrumental ensemble that had premiered this BBC commission in 1994, and the choir Tenebrae, all under Jonathan Morton's direction.  MacMillan's ability to capture the raw power of Christ's final utterances was highlighted by these forces - once again I was simply awestruck both by the sheer vocal power one usually hears from the British professional choir circuit.  This concert, presented as part of the City of London Festival, also featured a commission by Nigel Osborne: Seven words, seven icons, seven cities.

The following morning we found our way to the Russell Square tube station for the ride to Heathrow, and I felt quite gratified to have heard these wonderful performances and services in the space of two days.  Quintessential London!  And the Proms had not even begun yet...

Shortly after arriving back in Edmonton, I received a series of not so subtle emails from a former student who was singing at the Carmel Bach Festival in California, suggesting I should come down to Carmel for the final week of their concerts.  I had considered going earlier, as they were performing Haydn's Die Schöpfung as the Festival's celebration of the Haydn year, and our university forces would be mounting a performance this coming November.  So, with little advance planning, I scouted for possibilities of points travel and car rental, and was off to this idyllic location on California's Monterey Peninsula.  Naturally, the opportunity to see (and possibly play) some of the great golf courses in the area was an added attraction!  

The Haydn was beautifully performed, under Bruno Weil's informed direction, with outstanding soloists and a razor sharp orchestra and chorus.  The most pleasant surprise of this trip though was hearing two recitals that involved the student mentioned above, tenor Timothy Shantz, in a concert of Monteverdi, and another former student, soprano Jolaine Kerley (who now teaches voice in our music department at U of Alberta), performing cantatas for soprano and trumpet with strings by Melani and Scarlatti.  I must admit to some fairly strong emotions and no small amount of pride, hearing these two outstanding singers at this high-profile festival - I thought to myself, there is no better singing to be heard anywhere.  Well done, Tim and Jolaine, and all the others of course.

Returning to Edmonton on August 1, I suddenly realized that I had but a month left before the end of my sabbatical, and much still to do!  After a week of family visiting in and around Vancouver (during which I was able to take in a very interesting collaborative concert of the Vancouver Chamber Choir and the touring Taipei Philharmonic Chamber Choir), I found myself more than rested and prepared to get back to full time teaching.

Now, two weeks into the term, all auditions have been completed and choral personnel are in place.  There will be more concerts to attend, but it is exciting to again be part of the teaching and learning and, ultimately, performing experience that is so satisfying to those of us lucky enough to be doing this.  Having received in full measure, it's time to dole it out and give back in at least equal measure!

Re-auditioning a large chorus

I know there are some large symphonic choirs that have a policy of re-auditioning their members every year.  It is a monumental task, and our organization has a policy of doing it every three years.  In fact, as I was on leave this past year, they were granted one year of grace, so it's been four years, and I was quite curious as to how things would go with the longer interval between auditions.  We have around 120 active members in the choir now, and scheduled the auditions in the week following our final concert (conducted by our associate conductor) so they would be in good voice.  It's been our experience that a few singers take the cue of a re-audition experience to retire from the choir, and due to travel plans, conflicts, another dozen or so elected to wait until late August to do their audition, when we conduct auditions for new members.  That left around 95 singers who had their 7 minute ordeal last week.  

Well, correct that: to say it was an ordeal might have been true for a few, but my impression was that for the most part the singers welcomed the opportunity to put their best on the table.  We purposely kept the audition short and to the point - each singer prepares an aria or song from the classical tradition (with some exceptions going into musical theatre and folk song rep), of not more than 3 minutes duration - with Baroque arias, the da capo was usually omitted.  We tell them to choose a song which best demonstrates their range and what they are capable of showing technically and musically.  The results are usually very positive, with only an isolated few having a total meltdown of nerves.  For most, the sight singing portion is what they are mostly worried about, and I've always found it important to keep these examples short and graded in difficulty, without pressing the issue when the singer 'hits the wall' in her/his reading skill level.  Predictably, only a minority of singers really does well with this exercise, and in a large chorus it is equally important for singers who don't read confidently to have adept pitch retention skill, so we use various pitch retention exercises to supplement the information about reading ability when necessary.  

Having had audition slots of 10 and 8 minutes in the past, I found the 7 minutes a little tight; we found ourselves getting a little behind on occasion.  That said, using the Filemaker Pro program to record data was a great time-saver.  I had  used this program in the last round of auditions, and those results appeared in a box immediately above my notes from this round, so it has been very interesting to 'compare notes' with the last round for those singers who auditioned then.  This program can be used quite flexibly, to record all contact information, list singers by section, etc., and most importantly, merge my audition comments into a letter format which I will send out to each singer.  I think the personal touch is extremely important especially in a large chorus, where personal accountability is sometimes harder to maintain.  I have frequently asked singers in rehearsal to think of themselves as being in a chamber chorus, where their contribution matters a little more than in a large chorus, so these letters, while time-consuming to run off, are important.  Filemaker makes this work very smoothly.

One other observation has been that the re-audition process inevitably results in a much more focused ensemble, especially in the months leading up to the audition, and also in the year following.  In my comments I have frequently suggested to singers what they need to do to improve, whether it be investing in voice lessons or an aural skills evening class (we have sometimes offered mini classes in the hour immediately preceding rehearsal, and may do so again this time round).  Nowadays, with the plethora of very effective online aural skills improvement programs available, this has been the more common path, especially for singers who can discipline themselves to 'stick with it'.

So, you may ask, what of the results?  The inevitable question is, are any singers sacked through the re-audition process?  In the past, I have had to put some singers on a one-year probation, requiring them to audition again next year.  The re-auditions a year later have inevitably produced much better results, and some of these singers are now leaders in their section.  My decisions are not final this time round, but there may unfortunately be some negative decisions in the offing.  In some cases, the decision is to move the singer to a new voice part, especially if the comfort range of the voice is clearly changing.  Some singers have resisted this suggestion and have decided to withdraw.  I often tell singers, "Just think, if we do Messiah again next year (which we aren't), you have the additional excitement of learning the piece from a whole new perspective!  Be brave!" (or something to that effect).  In one case I've had the benefit of a soprano with excellent sight reading skills but no longer able to sing the upper ranges be of huge benefit to the alto section with her leadership in reading.  She has been able to prolong her choral singing career for nearly two decades through this change. 

This year for the first time, we are factoring in the attendance record of the singer, and in my letters going out next week, comments on the singer's attendance will be included where necessary.  Again, in a large chorus, there can be a tendency to assume that one's contribution is not that important, and we have noted rehearsal periods towards the end of the year where attendance drops off, or where singers will tend to 'sneak out' at the break.  We are being proactive about these issues in asking our attendance captains to record attendance both before and after break when necessary.

The whole process of re-auditioning a large chorus is time consuming but critical to maintain the group's standards.  It is normally a given that chamber choirs are re-auditioned frequently because of the competition element, but large choruses need to do this as well.

The adrenal effect of B Minor Mass

Sitting in a hotel room in Calgary this morning, after only 2-3 hours of fitful sleep, I am pondering the extraordinary adrenalin kick my body granted me after a 3 hour rehearsal on B Minor Mass with chorus and orchestra.  I have been on leave this year, and decided to also take a leave from my symphony chorus, so I've had much less conducting to do this year.  When the Calgary Bach Society came calling about this gig over a year ago, I eagerly accepted, thinking, "Who could be so lucky as to be asked to guest conduct this Everest of musical creations?"  I've had a couple of Saturday workshop rehearsals with the chorus this year, but this is the week to put it all together, and last night was our first joint rehearsal.  The orchestra is free lance, but made up of committed players, with strings using baroque bows, and all playing very well.  The chorus has done very well in recent weeks, and should be ready by Sunday's performance.  As for the conductor, I realize once again this morning how fortunate the conducting community is in being able to fit the process of making music on glorious rep such as this work into our fitness regimen!  Other mortals should be so lucky.

Co-commissioning

Although my symphonic choir in Edmonton, the Richard Eaton Singers, has commissioned a good number of works in the past 15 years, our two most recent commissions were unique in that they presented us with very exciting collaborative possibilities.  In 2002 we were contacted by Gillian Wilder, manager of the Vancouver Bach Choir (Bruce Pullan, conductor) to inquire about our interest in putting together a joint grant application to the Canada Council for the Arts' Commissioning Grant program, together with two other choirs from Ottawa and Montreal (see below).  My recollection is that the first submission, an application for a 30-minute choral/orchestral work by Toronto composer Christos Hatzis,  did not make the cut with the jury, but we were encouraged to reapply for the next round six months later.  The second application, again fronted by the Vancouver Bach Choir with the support of the other three choirs, was successful.  The Council jury awarded $10,000 toward the commissioning fee of ca. $16,000, meaning that each of the four choirs would only be required to contribute $1,500 from their individual resources to make up the difference, and of course, agree to absorb the costs of reproducing choral and orchestral scores and parts once Hatzis had completed them.

With a pair of choirs in western Canada and the other pair in the fairly close centers of Montreal (St. Lawrence Choir) and Ottawa (Ottawa Choral Society, both conducted by Iwan Edwards), the two pairs of choirs entered into a second level of collaboration by arranging an exchange visit, so that both choirs would have the benefit of two performances. In Vancouver and Edmonton, the two choirs paired Hatzis's new work, The Sepulcher of Life, with Vaughan Williams' A Sea Symphony, utilizing the Vancouver and Edmonton Symphony Orchestras in each city.  A similar plan was developed with the Ottawa and Montreal choirs (their choice of complimentary work was the Beethoven Mass in C.)  

The benefits of this joint commissioning project were many:

• In contrast with the normal "one and done" scenario that accompanies so many newly commissioned choral works (especially those involving larger instrumental scoring), the Hatzis cantata received four performances in the space of about six months in Canada.  Within two years of this project being realized, it had been performed over a dozen times, in Canada, the USA, and as far away as Finland.  
• The repeat performances gave the composer the opportunity to tweak and slightly revise passages from one performance to the next, in consultation with the conductors involved.
• The project brought with it a highly successful collaboration between the choirs, resulting in new and renewed friendships amongst singers, conductors and management, and an opportunity to visit one another's cities on a weekend.
• The high profile this project gained attracted the interest of the CBC, and the first performance in Vancouver was recorded for national broadcast.
• Cost-sharing made each project much more feasible economically, and permitted more resources to be put toward the cost of the exchange visits.

The success of this project spurred the Vancouver and Edmonton choirs to initiate another co-commissioning project several years later, in 2006.  For this application we selected Edmonton composer John Estacio, a talented and highly facile composer of mostly orchestral music who in recent years had had significant success in writing operas for the Calgary Opera Association and the Banff Centre for the Arts (Filomena and Frobisher).  Two other choirs from Ontario, the Grand Philharmonic Choir of Kitchener-Waterloo (Howard Dyck, conductor) and Chorus Niagara (Robert Cooper, conductor) agreed to support the co-commissioning application, which was also approved by Canada Council.

The Vancouver Bach Choir also received a major grant from the Olympic Arts Festival Committee in Vancouver for this project, as part of that city's pre-Olympic celebrations which took place in February 2008.  The occasion provided the theme for Estacio and the choirs to agree on: a text which would focus on international cooperation and reconciliation in a time of conflict.  Rather than choosing from an already existing text, Estacio asked his long-time librettist partner John Murrell to write a text for this work, and the result, The Houses Stand Not Far Apart, is a powerful four-movement cantata, for soprano and baritone soloists, chorus and orchestra that focuses on the conflicts between two neighbouring communities on opposite sides of a river.  Again, the Edmonton and Vancouver choirs collaborated to have an exchange, first performing the work in Vancouver in March 2008, and three weeks later in Edmonton.  In these concerts the complimentary work was Welsh composer Karl Jenkins' very affecting work from 2000, The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace.  Again, the symphonies from each city were engaged, with the performances playing to excellent houses in both cities.  The Edmonton performance was recorded by CBC for broadcast, and if you are interested, it can be heard on the CBC's "Concerts on Demand" page (http://www.cbc.ca/radio2/cod/concerts, and write "Estacio" in the search box).  The two Ontario choirs performed the cantata this past fall.  In Edmonton, the ESO has decided to present this cantata as part of its regular Master Series in 2009-10, paired with Beethoven's Ninth Symphony (Jean-Marie Zeitouni, guest conductor).  Eaton Singers will thus benefit from a third opportunity to perform this moving new work.

As one might expect, these collaborative commissioning and performing projects were very exciting for each choral organization to be a part of.  I expect that we will do it again soon, and highly recommend it as an effective way of contributing to the creation of new works for your chorus.

Opportunities to sing, i.e., to communicate!

I am on leave from my university appointment this year, and one of the many pleasures this time away from my regular teaching and admin duties has afforded me has been to take on a number of interesting singing gigs.  In the Fall, my good friend Richard Sparks, music director of Pro Coro here in Edmonton, asked if I could join them as an extra singer for a concert of Haydn Harmoniemesse and Vaughan Williams Mass in G.  I also joined the choir for a repeat performance of the Rachmaninoff Vespers in Calgary in September, having sung it with them last Good Friday.  In October, it was a concert with Voicescapes, a wonderful collective of singers in Calgary, performing two of the double choir motets of Bach one-on-a-part (Singet dem Herrn, Fürchte dich nicht), as well as (for the first time) Buxtehude's very moving work Membra Jesu Nostri.  This past February I sang with a fine group of vocal and instrumental soloists here at the University, assembled and directed by my colleague Jolaine Kerley, in a program of madrigals selected from Monteverdi's Books V-VIII, under the title "Songs of Love and War".  Also in February, Richard Sparks called again about subbing for a bass in a concert Pro Coro was giving with British guest conductor Simon Carrington: the program which included the Byrd Mass for Four Voices, Britten's A.M.D.G., and a selection of sacred and folk-inspired works by Walton, Dove, McMillan and several others, was without doubt one of the most challenging and yet gratifying programs I've sung in years.  Last week, opportunity arose to sing the Fauré Requiem solos with another Edmonton choir, Chorale St. Jean, directed by former student and now colleague Prof. Laurier Fagnan.  Then, this morning, the solo quartet (Choir II) in Allegri's Miserere for a Palm Sunday service at Holy Trinity Anglican, where the music director is another former grad student, John Brough.  As I look to the remaining months of this sabbatical year, I am planning another ensemble concert for May, in which a group of 6-8 of us will perform repertoire from the English Renaissance, including works by Tallis, Mundy and Byrd. 

All of these opportunities have been wonderful gifts of music-making for me, and if there's a small tinge of regret associated with this activity, it is the knowledge that my focus on conducting and, more recently, the bottomless vortex of administrative duties had prevented me from considering more opportunities to sing.  It has reminded me anew of the extraordinary challenge that surrounds the discipline of singing: the personal responsibility to bring one's fullest vocal capabilities to any passage; to be constantly aware of lateral ensemble concerns (balance, tuning, phrase structure, unified sense of diction, et al); and perhaps, most of all, the imperative to communicate with your audience as a singer.  Perhaps no one has reinforced the importance of communication for me more than Simon Carrington during his Pro Coro rehearsals.  In one particularly difficult period in our rehearsal of the Britten, which is surely one of the most challenging works in the rep for singers, I remember well Carrington's comment...."as a singer, one needs to approach every rehearsal as though one is giving a performance in that rehearsal, and communicate accordingly".  

Learning to communicate with every phrase one sings - what a concept!  It might seem so basic as to be obvious, but I am sure we have all experienced the mundane as well as the refreshing and inspiring, both in our own singing and the singing we have heard from others, so we do recognize the difference immediately.  The powerful effect of such engaged and enlivened performances can shake one to the core if one is lucky enough to be present when it happens! This was most aptly demonstrated for me by a number of university choirs at this year's national convention of the American Choral Directors Association in Oklahoma City.  Many of the best performances were delivered for memory, enabling visual communication and highly refined ensemble awareness within the group, but there were also some groups whose use of music (the British Early Music group Alamire comes to mind) did not compromise their ability to communicate their passion for the music they were presenting.  The key in all of these performances was surely that the group, through the leadership provided from the podium, had considered the potential communicative impact of every line and phrase - a process that can take great amounts of time but can nevertheless be life-changing for our singers if we ourselves take the time to deliver the message in a cogent and well-thought out plan of attack.

David Willcocks: A Life in Music

I recently had the opportunity to read William Owen's new book, A Life in Music: Conversations with Sir David Willcocks and Friends (OUP, 2008).  Owen has compiled a series of extended interviews with the British choral icon Sir David Willcocks, as well as numerous interviews with friends and acquaintances; their recollections resonate in an interesting counterpoint with Willcock's review of his long and storied life.  This is a great read - one quickly gains a portrait of this highly influential choral musician, from his beginnings as a treble chorister at Westminster Abbey, his further education at Clifton College and King's College, Cambridge, his sojourn in the British army during WWII, and then return to King's as Director of Music, via several cathedral posts in the post-war period.  Most riveting in this account for me was Willcock's recall of his war service, including his involvement in the Normandy invasion in 1944, and his pivotal role in the defense of a strategic position near Fontaine Ḗtoupefour, France ("Hill 112").  Of further interest to choral conductors is his detailed recollection of his involvements in several choral festivals (Salisbury, and the Three Choirs Festivals, e.g.), and especially his role in premiering numerous major works by Howells and Vaughan Williams, among others.  In later chapters we read of his musical direction of the London Bach Choir for nearly four decades, and his leadership of the Royal College of Music for 10 years (1974-84).  Throughout these personal accounts, which are supported by those of his family, friends and professional colleagues, a portrait is presented of a gifted musician and leader who had the innate ability to inspire thousands of vocal and instrumental musicians throughout a professional life that has spanned nearly 7 decades.  Willcocks recently turned 90, and Owen's book is a timely issue in celebration of one of the world's leading choral figures in the past and current centuries.

Fond memories of Bistro Praha

Earlier this week the Ramsey Building, one of the older buildings in Edmonton's Rice Howard Way restaurant district, was destroyed by a fire that now appears to have been started by an arsonist.  A number of businesses and the recently closed Cafe Renoir were in that building, but a tragic byproduct of the fire was the extensive water damage to the adjoining Kelly Building, which housed several outstanding restaurants, including the legendary Bistro Praha, a fixture downtown for well over 30 years since its founding by the Czech expatriot and amateur cellist Frantisek Cikanek.  

Unfortunately the water damage was extensive has forced the Bistro, along with two other restaurants, Co Co Di's and Nikita's, to close indefinitely.  For many downtowners, and especially for the arts community that frequented Praha before and after events at the Winspear, Citadel, etc., this is a great loss (hopefully only temporary!)

I, like many who frequented it over the years, found in the warm and unpretentious environment of the Bistro a relaxed comfort level that enabled so many memorable gatherings over the years.  There was a sense of security one felt walking through the curtain from the vestibule - in the always reliable and personable, friendly service, a menu rich in variety (and calories, I dare say), and a flexibility that allowed for gatherings of all types and sizes which could go on well into the morning hours.  To our friends at the Bistro, we wish you a speedy recovery from what we hope is just a temporary setback - we're already missing the various schnitzels, delicious chicken and fish dishes, and of course the strudel and personalized crepes (Nadia will always be a personal fave).  Come back soon!

Starting something new!  I must admit to feelings of trepidation re publishing thoughts from time to time on subjects related to choral music.  Having monitored sites of some good friends and acquaintances over the past few months, though, I am convinced that blogging interactions amongst choral musicians provide yet another opportunity for learning about this wondrous musical genre in all its splendid and inspiring variety.  

A few introductory comments about myself are in order, I suppose: I am a professor of choral music at a large Canadian university, University of Alberta, where I co-supervise a well established graduate program in choral conducting, and conduct a chamber choir, the University of Alberta Madrigal Singers, that has had the good fortune to engage in a wide range of regional, national and international activities over the nearly three decades I have led them.  I also direct a larger symphonic choir in the city of Edmonton, the Richard Eaton Singers (named after one of this city's musical pioneers who founded the choir in 1951) which performs regularly with orchestral ensembles here, including the Edmonton Symphony and Alberta Baroque Ensemble, and also hosts its own concerts each season.

Having recently completed a five year term as chair of my Department, I am on leave this year, so while I have not been in regular rehearsals with my ensembles or teaching classes, I have enjoyed the large chunks of free time to read, study and listen to a great amount of interesting choral (and other!) music.  The World Symposium on Choral Music in Copenhagen last summer, and more recently the ACDA National Convention in Oklahoma City, have been rich sources for gathering new music and ideas about music, hearing amazing ensembles from all over the world, and inspiration to get back to it when the time comes!