Laurel Massé

Sweet silence, and Bach

As I am packing my suitcase for a trip to Annapolis and Baltimore, I have found an acorn tucked into a corner of the bag. It was a keepsake from last weekend's inspiring retreat at The Monastery of the Holy Cross, an Anglican Benedictine monastery on the west bluff of the Hudson River just south of Kingston, NY. We spent the weekend alternating between silence and Bach's Jesu, meine Freude, and sinking into the rhythm of fixed-hour prayer that pulses through the brothers' days. It was a privilege to be there, and a great gift.

Our retreat was led by my congregation's vicar, Canon Pastor Victoria Sirota, who is also a musician with an international career as an organist. I will be thinking deeply about the retreat for a long while to come, and intend to follow Rev. Sirota's suggestion to use Bach as a spiritual director as I start to polish several more movements from his suites for unaccompanied cello.

Here is a photo, taken at the retreat by Hal Weiner. An icon of surrender: leaf accepting gravity.

Photo (c) Hal Weiner, www.halweiner.photoworkshop.com

All Saints and Souls

In the fall, when the leaves in the northeast turn yellow and red, and are tossed by the wind and rain to the ground, I miss my dogs more acutely. They loved the leaves swirling and the bite in the air. They glowed in the autumn light. They lifted my heart even as the days grew short and the darkness long. 

So, in their honor and memory, and for every one of you who has been loved by a dog, here is Wendy Francisco's perfect dog song.

Sonya 10/31/1978 - 3/8/1990.   

Shekinah  5/1/1991 - 9/15/2004.   

Shadow  4/28/1993 - 8/9/2006.

Masters, all, of the art of being fully alive. "Amen, bow wow".

Going south

Hello all!

I am going to be singing in Annapolis, Maryland at 49 West Café this coming Friday, November 6th, with guitarist Tom Mitchell. Also on the bandstand will be Robert Redd and Tommy Cecil. The shows are at 8 and 10 PM, cover charge is $20.

49 West Café is located in downtown Annapolis on 49 West St. For more information and to make reservations, call 410.626.9796, or go to the website.

I am looking forward to this very much. Tom is one of my favorite musicians on this or any other planet. He's one of my fellow staff members at Ashokan Western and Swing Week, and swings hard and sweet. 

I'll be hoping to see you there!

Since we last met...

I don't know where to start. Since I last typed here, I have taught and sung at Ashokan, been let go from the Cathedral choir because there will now be only male altos (a.k.a. countertenors), taught and sung at Yale, seen Julie and Julia, read Tim Keller's The Prodigal God, lost my voice, prayed a lot, regained my voice, sung with Janis and Lauren in JaLaLa's debut performance, seen and loved It Might Get Loud, looked at my finances, did some math, and started looking for a cheaper apartment. Then I found an apartment, packed, moved, and unpacked. Then I had to recover from from all that, and though I am not quite rested, I am becoming cheery again. I was in Ithaca last weekend, singing for the elementary students at the Enfield School. They are lucky, and blessed, to have a wonderful, inspiring music teacher, Karla Notarianni. I wish every child in this country had a teacher like Karla, and to know why, read her blog.

On Saturday, October 24th, I will be teaching a workshop with Wendy Lane Bailey and Tex Arnold in Edison, NJ, and am singing in Annapolis with guitarist Tom Mitchell in early November. More details to come... but in the meantime, here are some steps toward a more musical life...

JaLaLa sings!

Here we go!

JaLaLa is having her first in-public performance (and cd signing!) in New York City. Come join us to celebrate the release of our first recording, That Old Mercer Magic when we sing at Borders at 10 Columbus Circle at 7 PM on Tuesday, August 18th. For information, call Borders at 212.823.9775.

Bloggie goes a walking... to visit ChoralNet

I just discovered that my blog post of June 12, Why SIng? was picked up on ChoralNet. I was quite surprised, and also rather flattered that something I wrote "went choral" (next best thing to going viral).

I checked out the site, which seems a marvelous resource for choral singers of all kinds. There, I also discovered that Hal Leonard Music has purchased Shawnee Press. This pleases me. I am forever talking to students about pronouncing the words so that the listener can understand what the lyrics are about. Now, just maybe, it will be possible to get that helpful little Shawnee Press pamphlet, Tone Syllables, that outlines the techniques I first learned at my grandfather's knee - he was for many the lead baritone with Fred Waring's Pennsylvanians - and then had reinforced at Fred Waring's Youth Choral Workshop in 1966 (when I was extremely youthful!). I have never once sung onstage without using what I learned that summer, and I am completely mystified as to why every chorus and choir doesn't use this same concept. If a song has words, there is no reason whatsoever for the words to be unintelligible. I don't mean that lyrics in German should be understandable by non-German speaking listeners, but they certainly should be making sense to Germans! I am especially shocked to hear opera sung in English that is so mangled as to have to be supertitled. For cryin' out loud, folks! I realize there are technical difficulties in producing that incredible volume of sound, and several classical singers (and teachers of same) tell me that it is impossible to clearly enunciate. I might have believed them... had I never heard Rufus Muller.

I was privileged to get a ticket to his recent performance in Jonathan Miller's production of Bach's St. Matthew Passion. Rufus sang the tenor role ot The Evangelist (the central role) with exquisite control of his voice; able to caress, grieve, whisper, thunder, and inflect with a razor's edge of irony when called for. It was thrilling and gorgeous singing - and I understood every word.

Which proves it can be done, and there, for the moment, I rest my case. Let's have a run on Shawnee Press's Tone Syllables, and change the singing world!

Monday morning musing

Yesterday it rained. Today it will rain. It has been raining for two weeks, and that's a lot of grey sky, and a lot of weather to be under. My cat Bobby is doing the sensible thing: sleeping until the sun comes out. I am having a cup of tea, and letting my mind roam in a sort of "puzzley puzzley wonder why" (a John Lennon coinage, as I recall) about a lot of things, in no particular order.

Will the New York Times ever review me?

What would be the state of the world if those of us who claim to be following Christ actually did?

When you fall through a crack, do you land on something, or do you fall forever?

Manhattan is not a very big island - why can't it be car-free?

What exactly is the problem with universal health care?

Was Little Feat really a better band when Lowell was alive? Or did it just have Lowell?

Why are the arts so poorly-supported in this country? Is this somehow related to the health care question? I mean, is there someone actually deciding who and what deserves life and who and what does not? Based on what criteria?

Why are people who are incapable of returning phone calls hired to book venues?

What would happen if I went down into the subway and just started singing what is in my heart?

What would happen if I did the same at a cathedral?

How much longer will the watermelon be sweet this season?

How does one truly surrender?

Will I ever get a handwritten letter again?

Will the New York Times review the JaLaLa cd?

How do we really feel about Facebook? Isn't it a little "let us be your entire universe" creepy?

What's in the refrigerator for dinner?

Untroubled by these and many other questions, Bobby's still sleeping. All his needs are attended to (in aforementioned refrigerator there is lots of cat food, and he has trained me to execute a complicated behavior chain - go to fridge, open same, remove jar of food, close fridge, remove lid from jar, get spoon, put food on spoon, convey food to dish, place dish on floor, put lid back on jar, place jar in fridge, close fridge) and in return he has only to keep breathing, and be himself. He doesn't even have to heel.

Verily, I tell you, it's the cat's meow.

 

Why sing?

This was originally posted on my Songbird Salon blog, but someone just asked me today why I am a singer, so I decided to reiterate. Or perhaps reaffirm is the more precise word.

"Why sing?" There are many possible answers. For me, the easiest answer has been that I sing because I cannot do otherwise. I was born singing, into a singing family. I have never been a non-singer. There is, for me, no greater joy, and no greater sense of connection to God. So, as the Quaker hymn asks, "How can I keep from singing?"

But that only explains why I sing at home. Why do I go out into the world and sing? What is the purpose? What is the singing for?

Ysaye Barnwell, of the women's a capella group Sweet Honey in the Rock, teaches inspiring workshops in the art of singing, in which she speaks of singing as a way to express profound emotion, to gather in community, and to connect with the Divine. It's hard to improve on that. Three aspects: personal, communal, spiritual.

I believe with all my heart that I am called, that it is my gift, my obligation, my responsibility to sing. To express that which cannot be expressed in words alone, in the company of others. The good songs speak of our shared human experiences, and if I am doing my very best, there is nothing that divides us into performer and performed-for. Rather, we are just "us", and I happen to be the one carrying the melody at that moment as we go along. There are many others doing the same, a family, a community of song. When I am gone, someone else will pick up the melody, as I also believe I am part of a lineage. We'll all keep going along, for humans are born to sing, and that will never end.

New Haven concert

Erv Raible just called to invite me to sing a concert in New Haven this summer as part of my yearly stint at Yale. The date is set now for Saturday, August 1. These concerts always feature two artists; I am paired with my dear friend Amanda McBroom, who has just released Chanson, her new CD of Jacques Brel songs (some in new translations that more faithfully reflect his original lyrics than what has been previously done). I'll post more info as it becomes available, and you can also check out The Cabaret Conference at Yale. Though the events page is still showing last year's concerts, I expect it will be updated soon.

Dream team

Enrique just sent me this link. It takes you to the Amazon.com page of That Ol' Mercer Magic, the debut CD of the trio, JaLaLa. You can listen to samples (!!!!), which I just did. That listening has blown my illusion of keeping cool, and I started dancing around my apartment, a sophisticated and elegant dance, of course, even though it did include some jumping up and down, bubbly little jumps with giggling, like coffee percolating.

Or like champagne.

Apparently you're never to old to become suddenly unblasé. I have been looking forward to this release, but my excitement is taking me by surprise. I have been in the business for 37 years, for heaven's sake!  JaLaLa is the fruition of the idea Janis Siegel and I first dreamed with Cheryl Bentyne, when we sang together as Moxie. When Cheryl bowed out because of time commitments, we called Lauren Kinhan of New York Voices, who said yes, and JaLaLa stepped out of the dream and into the kitchen (thereby obeying the three Rules of Rehearsal: 1: there must be food, 2: the food has to be as good as the music, and 3: save the wine for the end of rehearsal).

My dears, tonight is wine to me. So raise a glass, and cheers!