Archive for September, 2010

Surrendering control…to the Sun and the Moon(ey)

Posted in Concerts, Ireland on September 13, 2010 by Tracia

So now my eighteen some months of planning, scheming, visualizing, imagining, strategizing, and dreaming are over. Our ten short days have now transformed from the anticipated to the realized, tangible only in the memories of each of the travelers.

Well, that and on the hard drives, SD cards, and websites housing the many photos and video clips taken over the course of the trip.

I feel compelled to try and capture as many of the emotions as I can (while they are still fresh), writing this blog entry, editing video, making photo slideshows, etc. Those ten days felt but like ten hours to me, and they are all too quickly slipping from unreal to surreal.

I also have a counter full of souvenirs and trinkets to share or give away, things I can hold or touch that might trigger associative memories about the trip: signed concert programs, newspaper clippings, framed photos, brochures, clothing, jewelry… Having a decent memory I know I will be able to remember a great deal about the trip, but as I really want to keep EVERYTHING, that’s just not enough…

It’s like I’m trying to hold water in my hands and I don’t want to spill a single drop… And yet I’m profusely leaking.

So instead I must comfort myself in the knowledge that the real souvenirs can not be worn or saved or stored on hard drives and photo albums or even in treasured blog entries. The things that will stay with me are the things I learned — about the wonderful people in my beloved group, about our music and its impact on others, about the charm and hardships of the Irish people and culture, about how to adapt and grow while partaking in something as hectic as a concert tour, and more than anything, little discoveries I’ve made about myself and my abilities and challenges as a (somewhat reluctant) leader.

Perhaps one of the biggest one is learning to surrender control. I did my best to plan and anticipate how the trip might go, giving a great deal of thought to pacing and varied interests, hoping to please all the travelers (impossible, I know, but I had to try). And yet I knew going in there would be many things that would be out of my control (such as the weather) which could make or break the enjoyment of even my best laid plans….and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

Frightening shadows, flickering light…

Interestingly enough, I found the weather to be remarkably compliant for us. It seemed that it would be gorgeous on the days it really needed to be (such as our lake cruise!), rainy on the days we could handle it best (such as indoor tours), and strategically off-and-on around the times when we needed it most (the rest of the time). The clouds seemed to hold in their rain whenever we had to walk to a church for one of our performances (or wanted to take a photo in front), but let their droplets go just as we were finishing touring an area (which conveniently sped up the process of loading back onto the bus!).

I can’t explain why we would always get so lucky, but it gives me faith that I could come to rely upon one thing: Things Work Out.

Another example: I originally had some concern that, after what I suspected would be a highlight for many singers of performing with the other Irish choirs in Bandon (and getting to connect with the warm and friendly people), our performances after that would feel anticlimactic. Yes, they were to be in the most awe-inspiring cathedrals (St. Canice of Kilkenny and St. Patrick’s of Dublin), but we knew that the audiences would be sparse and consist more of curious tourists than Irish residents. Combining my suspicion that the singers would not have huge appreciative audiences to draw energy from, and that I suspected fatigue and even illness might be setting in for many by that point, I was a little worried our performances in those two very incredible cathedrals might fall flat….and again there was very little I could do about that.

Clouds of dream give second sight

If I had known how it would turn out, it would have been easier to surrender complete control. The performance in St. Canice was indeed a rather low turnout, and the singers (and their director) were all fatigued and low-energy (especially with two of our number down for that concert). But interestingly enough, I found that just made it easier for us focus on the most subtle of details, the most intimate connection between the voices. Several of our loyal and beloved “roadies” said it was the first time they could really revel in the words and meaning of the texts, hear the interplay and beauty of each voice and still enjoy the blended choral sound, and for many it was thus the best performance of them all.

Go figure.

The performance was more like a serene and contemplative meditation, beautiful and introspective, and echoed afterwards by the other-worldly atmosphere in the church’s graveyard outside. I could not have planned this very drastic departure from the previous night’s energetic and uplifting performance, and that is good because if I had I would not have seen its value…and we would have been robbed of something truly wondrous and thought-provoking.

Then I surrender…

St. Patrick’s in Dublin did not disappoint either, even though it was at huge risk to, being the venue the most highly anticipated by most if not all of the chorus. Though I suspected it might feel a bit disconcerting for the singers to sing for casual passers-by, I actually hoped the audience would not applaud so our music could simply add to the ambiance as the onlookers soaked up the beauty of the impressive cathedral. Indeed they were reverently quiet, and it was an absolute dream for me to taste and savor the several-seconds’ worth of lingering echo at the end of our more energetic and powerful pieces. Amazingly enough, they did spontaneous applaud after our ‘last’ piece, “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da”, and seemed to help the singers get the appreciation they really deserved and craved. Again, this is something I could not have controlled, even though I was silently hoping it would happen!

However, that was not all…right after we finished the encore, the first person to come up and speak with me introduced himself as David Mooney — the arranger of our one Irish piece, “Dulaman”!!! Apparently he had seen some of the announcements of our performances in Ireland in the newspapers, but our performance in Dublin had not been listed, so he tracked down our website and discovered when and where we would be performing in Dublin (big thanks to Melissa’s husband, Bill Kendrick, for setting all that up!!!) Best part is that he was very impressed and complementary about our repertoire and execution!

Suffice it to say we spent a considerable amount of time chatting with him and taking photographs, and engaging in a bit of ‘hero-worship’ which he was understandably all too happy to accept. But seriously, he was very gracious and supportive and I’m so thrilled the entire chorus had a chance to meet him and speak with him. Definitely no risk of being anti-climactic there!

According to one of our number who sat next to him during the performance, he agreed with her statement that we were a special group, adding, “Yes, they are good. They are really, really good!”¬† He also e-mailed me later that afternoon to say, “It was wonderful to meet you and your wonderful choir today. I really enjoyed the whole performance – an excellently chosen programme and delivered with great musicianship and style. Your group makes a really beautiful sound – congratulations to you all.”

*Blush* ūüėÄ

The strangest part is that I had given this some thought well over a year ago, when I was programming our ‘Music of British Isles and Ireland’ concert and planning this trip. When I was researching for the concert program, I had discovered that David Mooney lived and worked in Dublin, and fantasized that it would be very neat if we could meet up with him while we were there…but soon dismissed it as highly unlikely and didn’t work to try and set something up. And yet here it happened anyway, completely unplanned, and because of that we enjoyed a much bigger honor, since he CHOSE to come to hear us, and went to extra trouble to do so.

Now the true test will remain: Will I be able to surrender in the future as well?

What dreams may come both dark and deep, of flying wings and soaring leap…

Well, the best I can do is try to remember: Things Work Out.

-Tracia Barbieri (director)

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“Irish Music–a warm blanket in which to snuggle and wrap oneself…” by Doug Barbieri

Posted in Ireland on September 13, 2010 by Tracia

I’m sitting here trying to marshal my thoughts, trying vainly to capture all of the buzz that is alive in my head. I woke up this morning, took a jog in a lovely Northern California dawn, taking in the cool air, the music of Ireland still freshly pulsing through my head. I hear Ray’s voice and his wife Jane’s lovely harmonies as they sung folk song after folk song, all the while tooling around througn the Irish countryside in our tour bus.

I hear the Irish heart in the form of melodies, all stringing together in my head, a malange of tunes and haromnies weaving in and out, mixed together with visions of white bunchning Irish clouds drifting over vivid green plains and mountains, Sheep, cattle, rock fences, a shepherd in complete aural command of his sheep dogs, the sound of the bus in motion, the hypnotic lilt of our driver Denis as he schooled us on the rich Irish history and taught us Irish humor and proper pronunciation of Gaelic, the sound of Euro coins in my satchel, the color of the Euro notes, the taste of Guinness in my mouth as we sat in a room with dozens of Irish who could sing like nobody’s business at the Teacher’s Club in Dubin, the color of the poached eggs we had each morning and the crispness of the rashers (Irish bacon), the potatoes and fried tomatoes, coffee, tea and scones. The deep richness of Irish butter and chocolate. The breathtaking churches and cathedrals with the sun streaming in through the stained glass windows, the echo of our cut-offs in those dramatic spaces, standing and singing in a solo in Yoruba to rapt European audiences, the feeling of tears of joy streaming down my face as I presented a gift of appreciation from the choir in an ancient Celtic church to my wife and director, Tracia, without whom none of this would ever had happened, The awe of standing in places that have history spanning thousands of years and feeling a part of it. The beautiful feeling of being wrapped in a thick warm blanket of love which is the Irish music, the yearning, the pain, the joy, love of life these people have cannot be adequetly transcribed on paper or presented on something as transient as a blog entry. ¬†But I do my best here.

I sat in awed reverence feeling privileged to have been allowed to partake in the Teacher’s Club singing pub session, where the doors are closed to the rest of the pub and the only rules are to be quiet, listen and if you feel the urge to sing, do it in turn. I sang my heart out, pouring the love that I felt in that lush, rich and green land, my travelling companions with me, each of whom I consider family now. This trip has brought us together and when we sang for the Irish in the room, it was from the heart. We gave them a bit of ourselves and they in turn gave us something we will never forget.

We sang this way all over the country, my VAE family and I. As each concert was behind us, we felt more and more connected with the rich Irish fabric of life, and to each other.

Though I have sung in choirs throughout the years, it was in Ireland where I was taught how to really sing.

I am forever changed by my Irish experience  and am incredibly thankful to have had this opportunity. I think about the tune we sang with the joint Irish choir in Bandon, County Cork, filling the old cathedral with song. This sums up, I think, how we all feel:
“May the road rise to greet you, may the wind be always at your back.
“May the sun shine warm, upon your face, the rain fall softly on your flelds.”
“And until we meet again, until we meet again. May God hold you on the palm of his hand.”

It was with bitter sweetness in my heart that we said to Ireland, “Slan go foill!”

– Doug Barbieri (tenor)

“Sensory Overload” by Laura Sandage

Posted in Ireland on September 11, 2010 by Tracia

The VAE tour of Ireland was a ten-day feast for the senses.¬† Here are a few scraps of the riches I encountered and won’t soon forget:

SOUNDS
–The crystalline acoustics of St Canice’s cathedral, which focused my attention and whetted my appetite for choral purity.
–The trilling Rs joyfully rolled out by the Carrigaline Singers during the song “Rrrrhythm of Life.”¬†¬† I laughed with delight and recorded the ending of the song on my iphone.
–The Irish accents, thick and thin, from our charming driver’s colorful turns of phrases to the rustic farm hands at Muckross, who spoke with very thick accents while looking off in the distance at oblique angles.
–The roar of wind and rain in the trees during a delicious solo walk to the Muckross Abbey.¬† I liked the sound so much I tucked my rain jacket hood around my ears to let the sound in!
–The roomful of charming voices and warm applause at the Goilin Singers Club on the last night in Dublin.

TASTES
–The wet, wild blackberries growing all along the paths of Muckross House.¬† I ate them by the handful!
–The thick, chewy brown soda bread at every meal– the best we had came with our soup at the Blarney Mills lunch stop.
–The not-too-sweet and very creamy butterscotch swirl soft ice cream at Glendalough.¬† Somehow, the Irish ice cream was good even in cool, wet weather.
–Sampling five varieties of cheap candy bars from the 2 Euro Store.¬† My teenaged daughter Vita and I both favored the Toffee Crisp.
–The burn of Jameson’s Irish Whiskey.¬† We tried some straight up, and then quickly added ice, coke, lime, anything to tame it.¬† Mixing the effects with tour bus motion sickness not recommended.
–The dark, meaty taste of the black and white pudding was something I didn’t expect.¬† Not knowing it was a kind of sausage, I was imagining something mildly sweet or perhaps eggy like Yorkshire pudding.

SIGHTS
–Rainbows on an almost daily basis, and a giant unicorn statue to go with them!
–Woolens of all sorts, celtic jewelry and art– I looked, touched, and admired, but never managed to buy myself anything.
–Soaring ceilings and polished brass eagles contrasted with eroded sandstone tombstones and vine-engulfed ruins.¬† Time and death, the great equalizers, are never out of sight nor out of mind, in spite of the richness of the country’s premier cathedrals and residences.
–Green, green, green hills, dotted with sheep and more sheep.

SCENTS
–The peat fires burning inside the vintage farmhouses of Muckross, where scones were cooked for us directly on the fire in iron pots.
–The green scent of evergreens and junipers in the rain.
–The musty, moist-stone-and-dust odors of the Blarney dungeons, of the inside of the Glendalough Round Tower, of the mossy chapel at the Rock of Cashel.
–The Easter lilies that trumpeted their perfume straight into the ranks of VAE during our St. Patrick’s concert in Dublin.¬† I missed several notes at the end of the Folksong trying not to cough with what felt like a particle of pollen lodged in my throat.¬† Luckily a good cough between songs had me singing again for There Will Be Rest.

TOUCH
–The firm flesh of young piglets patted in the Muckross petting zoo.
–The softness of wool scarves and shawls purchased by Jill, Tracia, and Jane.
–The closeness of fellow singers during cramped impromptu sings, the press of bodies during moments of pub navigation, and the embraces of tour friends upon departure– Denis, Britta, Cyd, and others.
–Ever-increasing attempts to play my African cowbell as quietly as possible in vast, resonant cathedral spaces.
–In a less tactile way, I was “touched” many times during the trip–and moved to tears by a swirling blend of exhaustion, gothic architecture, historic atrocities, warm welcomes, and most often by the beauty of our joined voices.

– Laura Sandage (soprano)

“Sharing” by Bill Andrews

Posted in Ireland on September 10, 2010 by Tracia

It’s been so much fun to connect with fellow VAE singers with their friends and family members. We’ve enjoyed spectacular scenery and amazing historical sites. Everyone seems to relish sharing what things they’ve seen and heard and it’s this personal dialog that I treasure so much.

VAE is an awesome aggregate of intelligent and caring individuals who share a common passion for creating beautiful music. It’s an honor to sing and perform with such talented and committed musicians under the inspired leadership of our beloved director, Tracia.

– Bill Andrews (bass)

“Charmed” by Liese Schadt

Posted in Ireland on September 9, 2010 by Tracia

Many have already shared a favorite moment or place; my favorite thing has been the engaging sincerity of the Irish. Complete strangers exchange with us a smile and a “Good morning!” on the streets. Another, who’s watching the store till for his friend, discusses rugby, hurling, and cycling and kindly corrects me when I recall Sean Kelly as the only Irish cyclist to win the Tour de France (it’s Steven Roche). A gentleman agrees to board our very full elevator, “but only to be next to this beautiful woman!” (blush). I’ll never forget the Irish engaging manner, love for life, or sense of community that even includes singing tourists such as ourselves.

Cheers!

– Liese Schadt (soprano)

“Bit o’ Blarney” by Erin Reddy

Posted in Ireland on September 7, 2010 by Tracia

The one stop that has it all! Town, pub, shopping, gardens, castle, and the famous Blarney Stone! Our bus pulled up just after 10:45 with a mere two hours to explore. Yet it was just enough time for everyone to see and do what they most wanted.

My mom, trusty travel buddy that she is, and I immediately set off to kiss the Blarney Stone. The stone lies at the top of the Blarney Castle ruins. Legend tells that a smooch on the stone will bestow you with eloquence – “the gift of gab.” The path up to the stone consisted of climbing a 100-step spiral staircase, with each step getting narrower than the last. As you climb, you are afforded a view of the different rooms of the castle, as well as vies of the landscape below.. Towards the top, the spires of the 18th century Blarney House appear. At last we reached the stone. But to reach it, you must bend backwards, suspended over the parapet. This makes for quite a photo!

After visiting the castle, we headed to the Rock Close. What a magical place! The trails wind through groves of gnarled oak and yew trees, with waterfalls and rock features as well. The close is the site of an ancient druidic settlement, and includes features such as the fairy glade, Witches Stone (a stone resembling an entrapped witch), and Druids Circle. Perhaps the most impressive was the Dolmen, a megalithic tomb portal with a gigantic rock balancing upon others. No one knows how it was placed there. After that it was about time to head back. I did have time however to run into the Erin Giftstore (yes, photo opportunity again!) where I found the perfect Celtic necklace.

Upon boarding the bus, I discovered that others had enjoyed themselves as well at the pub or Blarney Woollen Mills store. Overall, a wonderful experience!

– Erin Reddy (soprano)

“Altered consciousness” by Jill Kennedy

Posted in Concerts, Ireland on September 7, 2010 by Tracia

Driving along between dense green hedgerows, VAE began to practice “Irish Blessing”. What a _moment_. Boundaries between singers, listeners and country side merged.

More of the same that evening, as the group sang their first chords, the quiet intensity of their voices riveted the audience. Heads snapped to attention — absolute silence — little old ladies widened their eyes at each other. Again, the sense of loss self in some etheric place. Singers, locals, tourists held in exquisite sound.

– Jill Kennedy (camp follower)