Those of us involved in the music performance and pedagogy profession in Alberta have had to bid farewell to three veritable giants in the past three months. Gordon Hafso, for many years a professor of choral and church music at Concordia University College in Edmonton, and before that a minister of music at a prominent Lutheran church in Los Angeles, passed away in early July. Less than a month ago, Bob Cook, for many years a visionary musician and administrator in the Alberta government who had much to do with the development of music education in this province, died at his retirement home in Montana. Then, this past week, Paul Bourret, a choral conductor and mentor to many in Edmonton and across the province who founded several vibrant choral ensembles in the Columbian Choir program, and was a mainstay in the Alberta Music Festival Association for decades, passed away. It has been a difficult summer for musicians and especially choral musicians who were blessed by the tremendous generosity and vision of these three individuals.
I was able to attend the memorial services for Gordon and for Paul. What struck me in both cases was the depth of feeling and celebratory spirit that attended both of these services. The music was at times overwhelmingly beautiful and heartfelt, a genuine response from the many singers and players who had made music with these mentors. Celebrations of lives well lived.
I did not know any of them too well, but can easily detect the strong influence they have had on the cultural community we currently enjoy and thrive in. Attending Paul Bourret's memorial service a couple of days ago, I was deeply moved to read a poem written as a Memoriam to Paul by his very close friend, Bob Cook:
Between the miracle of the seed
And the certainty of the stone
There is an uncertain space called life.
It is not measured by the calendar or clock
But rather, by those treasured moments
Which make time useless and space infinite -
As it is when He dwells in us, and we in HIm also.
Rest in peace, gentlemen - you occupied the uncertain space called life with uncompromising vision and courage.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Injury
This week I am reminded of the fragility of the body and its linkages - I have been indulging in as many golf games I could fit in before the Edmonton climate says "no more until April" (that could be in a little over a month). This summer has brought me some of the most incredible golf experiences - a long-planned trip to Bonnie Scotland for 12 of us who find a week every summer to escape the normality of our lives for a little excitement on the links. Really the only missing ingredient was the quality of my golf game, which has been abysmal of late. But the courses - St. Andrews (yes, the Old Course), Muirfield, Carnoustie, Kingsbarns, Old Berwick, Gullane - all in one glorious week. I have not walked so many holes in so short a time in my life, and I felt invigorated and ready for more punishment. So when I got home, I took a few days away from the game, then back at it at my home course, Coloniale in Beaumont, which has not been in this good condition in years.
Yes, and finally, the last couple of rounds something approaching a miracle happened - I actually could hit the ball straight and longer than I had in months. It is a fickle business - little tweaks can have such momentous results. I suppose it is a little like music in that respect, and that is why I love it so much, despite it's multitude of frustrations.
Sunday last I played one of the best rounds of the year for me, came home extremely pleased with myself, all the while noting a faint twinge of pain in my right wrist. Ah yes, the wrist I have had periodic troubles with over the past four years - and after several attempts at diagnosis (lunate and capitate bones seemed out of position), x-rays, an MRI, and finally a C-Scan, it appeared to be nothing more than arthritis, a condition I have noted with some alarm as my fingers have steadily been curling on me. The twinge increased exponentially over night, and by morning I was swollen and in severe pain.
I recalled the first time this had happened, also after a round of golf, and it had taken a full three weeks for me to recover the use of my wrist without pain. For three days I have been putting my left hand to extraordinary use for all the normal things we do with two, and I came to appreciate once again how burdensome such situations can be. And the pain...at times unbearable, despite the regular use of Tylenol 3. Well, the swelling is down now, and I can actually type with both hands today. I was feeling quite sorry for myself, as this week I had set aside to prepare a series of lecture notes for a course I have not taught in 8 years. Needless to say, I have some catching up to do.
On Tuesday evening, I met my symphony chorus for the first rehearsal of the new season. It was an interesting evening trying to make my left hand do two jobs, keep time as well as show some expressivity. Signing some documents at break turned out to be a painful (for me) and amusing (for my choir members) experience.
Oh, and I have a golf tee time on Sunday - our usual foursome. I think I may give it a try!
Yes, and finally, the last couple of rounds something approaching a miracle happened - I actually could hit the ball straight and longer than I had in months. It is a fickle business - little tweaks can have such momentous results. I suppose it is a little like music in that respect, and that is why I love it so much, despite it's multitude of frustrations.
Sunday last I played one of the best rounds of the year for me, came home extremely pleased with myself, all the while noting a faint twinge of pain in my right wrist. Ah yes, the wrist I have had periodic troubles with over the past four years - and after several attempts at diagnosis (lunate and capitate bones seemed out of position), x-rays, an MRI, and finally a C-Scan, it appeared to be nothing more than arthritis, a condition I have noted with some alarm as my fingers have steadily been curling on me. The twinge increased exponentially over night, and by morning I was swollen and in severe pain.
I recalled the first time this had happened, also after a round of golf, and it had taken a full three weeks for me to recover the use of my wrist without pain. For three days I have been putting my left hand to extraordinary use for all the normal things we do with two, and I came to appreciate once again how burdensome such situations can be. And the pain...at times unbearable, despite the regular use of Tylenol 3. Well, the swelling is down now, and I can actually type with both hands today. I was feeling quite sorry for myself, as this week I had set aside to prepare a series of lecture notes for a course I have not taught in 8 years. Needless to say, I have some catching up to do.
On Tuesday evening, I met my symphony chorus for the first rehearsal of the new season. It was an interesting evening trying to make my left hand do two jobs, keep time as well as show some expressivity. Signing some documents at break turned out to be a painful (for me) and amusing (for my choir members) experience.
Oh, and I have a golf tee time on Sunday - our usual foursome. I think I may give it a try!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Choosing music - the annual ritual!
After a long absence from this blog, I almost feel like a stranger to my own site and the meandering musings that ceased nearly 8 months ago. Now that the concert season is over I'm trying to convince myself that I have lots of time to get back to writing; I can only offer the excuse of sloth in not doing this on a more regular basis. My focus for the past two weeks on choosing music for next year's Madrigal Singers concerts has only been partially successful - we finally have a longer stretch of fairly decent weather in Edmonton, so I have been working (with rather limited success) on the golf swing and wasting time with other self indulgent preoccupations (Facebook, how I loathe thee). But there are deadlines to keep, and after begging my music librarian for a week's grace on her end-of-May deadline, I have two days left to get this hypothetical list together.
I say hypothetical because for a variety of reasons we have had a fairly healthy turnover in the university choir each of the past two years, and next year looks to be following that pattern again. And I am sure I share the same anxiety with many of you - please Lord, could you send me a few good tenors over the summer? Not that the few returning aren't strong, but two don't make a section. So the rep list has several categories, depending on the turnout in Fall term.
Over a month ago all the ensemble directors at Alberta received a rather ominous email from our librarian stating what we all expected: that the budget for purchasing new choral music is severely curtailed for the coming year. She not so subtly suggested that this might be a good year for us to rely more heavily on our existing library resources than on new purchases. It's been very interesting to go back over old programs and lists, and come to realize that there is a ton of repertoire that I would welcome the opportunity to do again - perhaps with the passing of years and accumulated experience, the pieces I've chosen will graciously reveal new ideas and insights interpretively.
Over the past 15-20 years or so my focus has been largely on music of the past two centuries, mainly in the unaccompanied mode for this choir. It has been a true adventure, and I'm not abandoning that emphasis at all - in fact, next year I am hoping to feature more contemporary Canadian music than I have in a few years. But over the past few days I've also taken time to explore the vast resources of online materials at CPDL and other sites, and I am bowled over yet again by the vast offerings available to us in choral music, under the most generous of terms. This is not to suggest a sudden decision to abandon today's somewhat tenuous (bordering on critically challenged) music publishing industry in favour of freebies, but budgets being what they are, I'm looking forward to striking a judicious balance between free resources and those that need to be purchased. And hopefully the other resources we all need - willing and talented young singers - will show up in September!
I say hypothetical because for a variety of reasons we have had a fairly healthy turnover in the university choir each of the past two years, and next year looks to be following that pattern again. And I am sure I share the same anxiety with many of you - please Lord, could you send me a few good tenors over the summer? Not that the few returning aren't strong, but two don't make a section. So the rep list has several categories, depending on the turnout in Fall term.
Over a month ago all the ensemble directors at Alberta received a rather ominous email from our librarian stating what we all expected: that the budget for purchasing new choral music is severely curtailed for the coming year. She not so subtly suggested that this might be a good year for us to rely more heavily on our existing library resources than on new purchases. It's been very interesting to go back over old programs and lists, and come to realize that there is a ton of repertoire that I would welcome the opportunity to do again - perhaps with the passing of years and accumulated experience, the pieces I've chosen will graciously reveal new ideas and insights interpretively.
Over the past 15-20 years or so my focus has been largely on music of the past two centuries, mainly in the unaccompanied mode for this choir. It has been a true adventure, and I'm not abandoning that emphasis at all - in fact, next year I am hoping to feature more contemporary Canadian music than I have in a few years. But over the past few days I've also taken time to explore the vast resources of online materials at CPDL and other sites, and I am bowled over yet again by the vast offerings available to us in choral music, under the most generous of terms. This is not to suggest a sudden decision to abandon today's somewhat tenuous (bordering on critically challenged) music publishing industry in favour of freebies, but budgets being what they are, I'm looking forward to striking a judicious balance between free resources and those that need to be purchased. And hopefully the other resources we all need - willing and talented young singers - will show up in September!
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