You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
Some of us have backbones. And some don’t.
We all breathe in some fashion. And eat.
Protozoa, echinoderms, annelids, mollusks, arthropods, crustaceans, arachnids, insects, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals.
Welcome to the club.
~*~
For your own copy of my animal nature poems, click here.
For the past four years I’ve been a member of the bass section of a remarkable community chorus in Greater Boston. We rehearse weekly through much of the year and find ourselves performing in public when occasions present. Most recently, it was as part of a summer solstice event hosted by the Harvard University museums of science and culture.
Known as the Revels Singers, we’re under the umbrella of the Boston Revels organization, which is best known for its annual Christmas productions at Harvard’s Sanders Theater.
George Emlen, the Revels music director for the past 32 years, founded the community chorus four years ago as a way to keep much of the Revels’ repertoire and spirit more active and visible throughout the year, augmenting the pub sings, concerts (spring and fall equinox and summer solstice are duly observed), educational outreach programs, harbor cruises, and the like.
And now he’s retired. How do you replace a skilled and enthusiastic conductor, one who reaches out to know his performers and their families as well? How do you replace an insightful composer and arranger or a collaborator on creating a new show every year for Christmas? (The last one was set in Wales. The next has a Cajun-Acadian base.)
It’s been an emotional year for us. At the final show of the Wales production, George was given a curtain-call, something the directors never do, preferring the applause be for the cast of singers, actors, and dancers ranging from very young to, well, admittedly old. The well-earned roar that greeted George matched what James Levine might hear at the Metropolitan Opera at the conclusion of a Ring Cycle. It was amazing. He’s touched a lot of people over the years.
For me, every rehearsal has brought new perspectives on music and music-making, from his improvised warm-ups (they’re never the same, and I wouldn’t want to sing without them beforehand) to the discoveries and interplay we share in pieces that range from the 12th century to the present, spanning more than two dozen languages and both classical and folk disciplines. How does a conductor remain patient while incrementally yet continually raising the level, anyway? We were good to begin with, but now? It’s a much higher standard than we would have had any right to imagine.
One eye-opener for us was the opportunity to audition the four finalists from the applicants to succeed him. Each was assigned three pieces to introduce to us in an hour-long rehearsal – one from the Renaissance or earlier, one from the American shape-note tradition, and one from world folk. As we found, each conductor was quite different, having something unique to bring to us. We could also sense how the fit might or might not work, which in itself was a revelation.
What I can say is that we’re excited to know that what George has established will continue and grow. We’ve had an opportunity to rehearse a full session with our new music director, Megan Henderson, and it feels like a match made in heaven. But then, as she says, we all share one thing in common: we all love George. She understands what she’s inheriting.
He plans to focus on composing, but I can’t imagine he won’t be in demand for guest conducting or teaching or travel in the arts. We all wish him and Jan all the best.
~*~
To view a video tribute to George by Michael Kolowich, including an interview and footage of productions George conducted, go to Revels.org.
Don’t blame Obama.
Not with this do-nothing Congress.
Some folks just like a mess. Especially one of their own making.
I keep thinking about that negative reaction to Barack Obama’s promise of positive politics – that red bar and circle over the word HOPE. And then all the destructive backpedaling from those deriding any outlook of hope – their refusal to work together for any real solutions to the issues facing the nation or world.
Or their blatant cry of NOPE!
Doesn’t that make theirs the party of No Hope? The party of Despair? Or even the party of Hate?
That’s how it looks from here, even before we add Trump’s tyrannical bluster.
Well, I’d welcome a similar red circle and bar over their campaign posters and ads in the fall. Along with a bold proclamation: NOPE! NOT THIS ONE! OR ANY OF THEM!
Just to be fair.
As I said at the time …
What’s amazing that I was able to somehow go from oh-so-white-middle-and-working-class high school to the hippie realm in a span of just four years. Could it even be the same person? Damn, I’ve been lucky at times!
Here she was, the three-day (or however many) cheerleader from the Biggest City in America, now with me, the Eagle Scout and one-time biochemist hopeful turned flower-child yogi from a place I thought was hilly. Me, the one some had hoped would become a minister, now turned agnostic/logical positivist, with someone who’d grown up at leftist rallies. Sounds like something they’d shoot out of a cannon at the circus while you applauded.
Should we talk about who was greener, in the sense of naïve, when we met?
But she came at the turning point. One where our shared idealism met at a crossing. And we were soon off, our own separate trajectories.
Fortunately, we parted on speaking terms. And still do.
Many of the Red Barn’s Woodpecker Reports, you may have noticed, are rooted in the years of the George W. Bush administration. Contrary to recent public opinion and propagandists, it was a dark period that launched a very expensive and unjustified war and nearly crashed the country into another Great Depression. Toward the end, there were moments we were only hours away from global financial collapse.
Barack Obama deserves praise for his drastic efforts to turn from that fate, even if he can – and should – be faulted in restoring the banking system rather than rebuilding it on a new foundation far more open to the American people.
Despite steering the nation back to economic health as far as Wall Street goes – something that has yet to take hold for the nation’s working families – and of inheriting two wars that defy true resolution, Obama’s legacy stands tainted by the GOP’s bitterly partisan control of the House of Representatives, severely crippling any effort to move forward on many critical issues. A party intent on obstruction and destruction rather than acting as a loyal opposition deserves far more blame than it’s been given.
In its own failure to proclaim this burning message, the Democratic Party, in turn, has no justification in being baffled by its own current state of wreckage.
So where do we go? Where do we turn? How do we move forward from this mess?
One of the most remarkable periods in world history came in mid-1600s Britain, an outbreak that included the execution of the monarch by commoners (rather than a rival for the throne) amid a host of social, economic, and political upheaval. For an overview of the ferment, you can read Christopher Hill’s The World Turned Upside Down or Antonia Fraser’s Cromwell, Our Chief Among Men.
My primary interest, of course, focuses on the rise of the Quaker movement out of the waves of conflict – with the rise of a two-party political system and a loyal opposition as a byproduct of a pacifist faith. I also see parallels with much of the counterculture experience I’ve known from the hippie era on, where some have remained faithful but many others have flaked away.
The waves of English radicals can be fascinating, from the New Model Army and Levelers, Diggers, and True Levelers on through the Muggletonians, Fifth Monarchists, and others, but for Quakers, the Ranters presented a special cross to bear.
Like Quakers, the Ranters espoused personal experience of ecstatic faith, and the two movements were often confused with each other by the wider public. Unlike the discipline and discipleship among Quakers, though, Ranters had no qualms about sexual promiscuity or any other limitations (it was all God’s will, in their eyes, no matter any hurt to others), at least until persecution hit and they readily recanted. Not so the Quakers, who insisted on eternal Truth. God doesn’t change.
So here we are. What are our deepest values? Where do we stand firm, and where do we yield and bend? What is principle and what is opportunistic? How far out is our vision, and how much a matter of short-term maneuvers?
Where are we – each of us – truly accountable?
Anyone else feeling uncomfortable?
In a same-day announcement, Donald Trump cancelled a rally planned for late this afternoon or early this evening about dozen miles from us. (These things never start on time.) Said he had to work on a speech. Something more than a tweet?
We’re relieved, for several reasons.
First, it’s good to know he won’t be stirring additional pollution into our local air. There’s enough toxic bigotry, self-delusion, horse hockey, cruelty, and hatred gushing out from his mouth as it is. Reasoned criticism is one thing, but that’s not what we get with this candidate. Won’t ever be, either.
Even if it weren’t Trump, we already know how these campaign appearances snarl already congested rush-hour driving. What was he thinking when he picked rush hour, anyway? Real people — the kind who have to work jobs for a living — know about this, unlike Trump and his supporter Chris Christie. Living in the Granite State, you soon discover how the enhanced security force can muck up traffic at any hour, clustering around intersections, especially, even before halting a freeway for the comic-opera parade of motorcycle cops, candidate in his limo, staff in theirs, Secret Service, and trucks of news media in tow. We’d already changed our plans to avoid all that. I even visited a clinic down that way to pick up a prescription first thing this morning, thank you.
Now, thankfully, it looks like we’ll have our highway connection running normally after all.
Another conflict, though, is more existential. Did I want to join in a short-notice truth-witness vigil near the event site? Conscience said yes, but a look at my to-do list (including the garden) said not really. To venture forth to the protest line would mean entering all that traffic I’d resolved to dodge, while the to-do would mean staying home, maybe grilling dinner to soothe my aching muscles while failing to respond to the call of Liberty. Looked like I’d feel a pang of misery either way.
Well, we’re off the hook for now – all of us. As for the next question, will I be more in gear for the next opportunity?
There I was, driving behind a vehicle that had a GOP elephant logo when the random thought hit me: pachyderms generate huge amounts of offal. (I read it in the Wall Street Journal, a big piece about the job given the last guys in the circus parade, in fact, if I remember right.)
And then I realized how much of our current political mess was created by previous Republican administrations. (If we can’t afford X, Y, or Z now, remember how much was squandered on the meaningless Iraq war, for starters.)
The fact I want to focus on, though, is the question of whether an elephant is an appropriate mascot for an AMERICAN political party. It’s an import that’s ill-suited for much of the continent, and it consumes tons of food, no matter how mighty it can be as a workhorse in the jungle. It’s definitely not something for the masses, and definitely not something we’d want as one for every household.
A donkey, in contrast, is a very efficient workhorse, and stubbornness can be a useful quality, at times. One per household’s not that far off the mark as a historic American ideal, either.
If I were a Republican strategist (gee, banish the thought), I’d be pushing for a new critter to identify with. But nothing that comes to mind at the moment is anything they’d want to consider.
Close your eyes and taste. Strawberries or blueberries, for starters. Raspberries soon will follow. Currants we’ll save for the jam.
~*~
For more garden poems, click here.
