I can still see the puff of smoke that quickly arose and then dissolved in thin air. The puff emerged from a shaving of rosin off of the bow of the cello player as it was drawn across the strings during last Sunday's chamber ensemble concert! That's how close we were sitting to the performers!!
The chamber group, Simpatico, that Darin Lewis has developed is simply amazing. Fourteen individuals wielding string instruments, a passion for beautiful music, and the ability to make it happen. The intimacy of the setting in the sanctuary at the Church made it all the more powerful. Again, puffs of rosin smoke! Not to mention access to the delicate fingerings for the various pieces, the eye contact of the various performers, and the invitation to the sheer delight that they took in making beautiful music. The evening was truly magical.
What's more, the evening was the fulfillment of a long-held dream of many who worked tirelessly to bring the sanctuary to reality. Names like Richard Mayberry, Ed Happ, Frank Baker, JoAnne Cone, and, particularly, Joe Mygatt. (And those who are not with us but were vital to the project and would appreciate the outcome: Betty Wilson, Tom Hitchcock, Gordon Hart, Shirley Chillington, Gloria Brown, and Patzy Lavender to name a few.) As one of the architects of the new Church, Joe developed the space not only for worship but also for chamber music. Last Sunday's event was the first time a chamber group performed in that space, and the acoustics were phenomenal. Many people commented that this needs to happen again. And it will.
(For those who were unable to attend, we hope to have video and audio files available to allow you a hint of how beautiful the music was. And I hope that you may be able to experience the wonder and beauty of such an event in the future.)
All of this is prelude to a piece that was passed on following the service. Inspired by the evening and reminded of the poignancy of that Church space, parishioner, Ralph Nazareth, passed on a reflection that he had written to a friend about the worship space on Long Ridge Road. I don't know if it will resonate with you, but I found it beautiful and wonderfully articulate. As the saying goes, the best form of flattery is plagarism, so let me flatter Ralph:
What else? Perhaps I should mention the building itself. A modest box-shaped structure set in the woods, you'd never expect the special feeling it has when you enter it. I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps it's the simplicity and clarity of the lines, very modern. Not a curlicued frieze in sight, much less rococo gargoyles to shadow your psyche. Radiant white walls, perfectly positioned to receive the stream of light let in by angled windows and apertures set in the ceiling with an unsurpassed elegance of asymmetry. ED's famous "slant of light" cannot and does not "oppress" here "like the weight of cathedral tunes." Light becomes the medium for prayer, a lucidity of knowing our radical contingency, a raising of hearts in quiet exultation.
What was so poignant about the evening concert was the confluence of space and sound. Both beautiful in and of themselves. Both mingling to create something even more beautiful. In an odd way, confronted by such beauty, we often stumble into an awareness of our "radical contingency". Far from a macabre focus on or fascination with morbidity, such an experience is so temporal and fleeting that we cannot help but recognize our contingency.
Thus, boisterousness and frivolity are not immediate extensions of such an experience. Rather, as Ralph notes, hearts raised in quiet exultation fill the space as well.
Blessings.
Mark
The chamber group, Simpatico, that Darin Lewis has developed is simply amazing. Fourteen individuals wielding string instruments, a passion for beautiful music, and the ability to make it happen. The intimacy of the setting in the sanctuary at the Church made it all the more powerful. Again, puffs of rosin smoke! Not to mention access to the delicate fingerings for the various pieces, the eye contact of the various performers, and the invitation to the sheer delight that they took in making beautiful music. The evening was truly magical.
What's more, the evening was the fulfillment of a long-held dream of many who worked tirelessly to bring the sanctuary to reality. Names like Richard Mayberry, Ed Happ, Frank Baker, JoAnne Cone, and, particularly, Joe Mygatt. (And those who are not with us but were vital to the project and would appreciate the outcome: Betty Wilson, Tom Hitchcock, Gordon Hart, Shirley Chillington, Gloria Brown, and Patzy Lavender to name a few.) As one of the architects of the new Church, Joe developed the space not only for worship but also for chamber music. Last Sunday's event was the first time a chamber group performed in that space, and the acoustics were phenomenal. Many people commented that this needs to happen again. And it will.
(For those who were unable to attend, we hope to have video and audio files available to allow you a hint of how beautiful the music was. And I hope that you may be able to experience the wonder and beauty of such an event in the future.)
All of this is prelude to a piece that was passed on following the service. Inspired by the evening and reminded of the poignancy of that Church space, parishioner, Ralph Nazareth, passed on a reflection that he had written to a friend about the worship space on Long Ridge Road. I don't know if it will resonate with you, but I found it beautiful and wonderfully articulate. As the saying goes, the best form of flattery is plagarism, so let me flatter Ralph:
What else? Perhaps I should mention the building itself. A modest box-shaped structure set in the woods, you'd never expect the special feeling it has when you enter it. I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps it's the simplicity and clarity of the lines, very modern. Not a curlicued frieze in sight, much less rococo gargoyles to shadow your psyche. Radiant white walls, perfectly positioned to receive the stream of light let in by angled windows and apertures set in the ceiling with an unsurpassed elegance of asymmetry. ED's famous "slant of light" cannot and does not "oppress" here "like the weight of cathedral tunes." Light becomes the medium for prayer, a lucidity of knowing our radical contingency, a raising of hearts in quiet exultation.
What was so poignant about the evening concert was the confluence of space and sound. Both beautiful in and of themselves. Both mingling to create something even more beautiful. In an odd way, confronted by such beauty, we often stumble into an awareness of our "radical contingency". Far from a macabre focus on or fascination with morbidity, such an experience is so temporal and fleeting that we cannot help but recognize our contingency.
Thus, boisterousness and frivolity are not immediate extensions of such an experience. Rather, as Ralph notes, hearts raised in quiet exultation fill the space as well.
Blessings.
Mark
No comments:
Post a Comment