The last time I pounded aimlessly on the keyboard I talked about some of the silliness and fun that’s gone on over the years and today I wanted to take some time to remember some of the musical magic. There’s nothing in the world that sounds quite like a choir. Add a composition of brilliance and beauty and an evening of music can be transformed into something much more meaningful than just a concert. When everything finds itself, both the singers and their audience can feel it. There have been some amazing moments and I wanted to bring some of them back into the front of my brain (from that cobweb-filled place in the back that seems to get bigger as I grow older) and share it with you. I hope that it brings a smile to those who sang these pieces and, for you new folks, an idea of what can happen when we really get it right.

– “Misa Criolla” by Ariel Ramírez. We knew we were in for it when we opened this one up. “Excuse me Susie…but you DO realize that this thing is 64 pages long, right? And needs professional tenor soloists? And an orchestra?” Yes, yes and yes, she did and yes this master work was half of our entire concert. It’s a stunningly beautiful piece and the only way to get it right is to roll up your sleeves and work. Hard. Harder than this group has ever worked before. And when the dust cleared and the Charango was back in its case, it had been just plain awesome. A good friend of mine started tearing up in the first 30 seconds and pretty much wept through the entire thing. It was a great lesson for us; when you work hard enough, the magic will find you.

–  “‘O ‘oe ‘io” by Luke Ka’a Morgan. So how much do you have to like a song that you decide to sing it in every show forever? We opened our second concert with this oh-so-lovely piece of Hawaiian beauty and have closed every concert with it since then. It speaks of the way that Hawaii surrounds and embraces us and even if you don’t know the translation, you still know that you’re loved by the ocean and the land. Add the glowing smile of Ka’anohi dancing and everyone and everything in the room stops to enjoy it. (And yeah…she really does glow, doesn’t she?)

– “The Softness of My Mother’s Hands” by John Starr Alexander. It’s a funny thing, sometimes you know you’re in for a treat just by reading the name of a tune. This flowing piece lived up to (surpassed, actually) the promise the simple title showed. John’s arrangement moves with the words in a way you don’t often get to enjoy from the beginning to the end of a choral work. With some pieces there are nuggets of wonderfulness that pop up, but this one grabs you with the first notes of the stark piano line and holds you in its embrace until the end. Kinda like the title promised.

– “Stand By Me” by Charles A. Tindley. This one started as a great arrangement of a turn-of-the-century hymn and then…well…went right on past the hymnal. Susie chose to really work the phrases and give the audience (and us) a moment to reflect at the end of each line for just a second longer than you would expect. Instead of just being a simple and beautiful tune, you had a chance to really ABSORB the words. “When the storms of life are raging, stand by me; when the world is tossing me, like a ship upon the sea, Thou who rulest wind and water, stand by me.” For me, at least, it was surprising just how awesome that piece became.

– “Kyrie” from “Memorial” by René Clausen. We all remember where we were on 9/11, it burned a hole in all of us that isn’t ever going to close completely and we all dealt with it in our own individual way. We had to. If we didn’t, we’d never get past that little gut wrench that seized us every time we turned on the television, fearing that the program we intended to watch was going to be preempted by…something. René Clausen attacked his reaction by composing “Memorial”. In an interview on Public Radio, he remarked. “Hopefully the themes of the piece are cleansing and hope.” I don’t know that I’ve ever tried so hard to push a message to an audience than when we sang the closing “Kyrie” from that composition. I NEEDED them to understand what we were trying to say as we sang (and cried a little).  In the words of Concordia’s Michelle Hayes, who sang in the choir as the piece was premiered, “It was powerful beyond belief. It was visceral. Every ounce of my being was invested in the piece in hopes it could bring a sense of understanding for the healing that was needed.” There’s a very short list of things that I’ve sung that I would refer to as “life-changing”; this one’s on it.

– “Na Ke Akua” by John McCreary. I sincerely believe that one of the things that gives the Windward Choral Society its truly unique sense of joy and camaraderie is the mutual adoption that took place with the McCreary family. We’ve all become Betsy’s extended (and large) pile of cousins and extra kids and in turn have wrapped our collective arms around her and Susie and the rest of the gang. Performing John’s music was the icing on the big “Happy New Family” cake and “Na Ke Akua” is, at least as far as I’m concerned, the best of all of it. (Yes, John, I can hear you insisting it’s the only thing you’ll be remembered for. Fear not, we love all the other stuff too.)  There’s a transformation that happens every time we sing it as we all think of him (and his sneaky little grin). Susie conducts this one differently than any other piece – I bet she doesn’t even realize it – and those of us who knew John pull the words and notes out of ourselves and really try to tell the audience about him as we sing. There’s nothing quite like it and I suspect it will always be that way.

So here comes another season, another fall of gathering with our friends and soon-to-be-friends to wrestle with sheet music and laugh and learn. I’d bet there’s a 100% chance that something we sing will find its way into the stuff  the last two blog entries discussed and that’s a good thing. It’s part of our mission to bring joy to our audiences and I can’t wait to get started.

Of course, Christmas music in September is a little painful…but I bet there’s a fake tree for sale in a store already. In the words of Lucy Van Pelt, “You know, Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho, and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls.”

Indeed.