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  • Writer's pictureChristine

Live Art


It’s been months since I’ve stood in a room with other colleagues and created art with them, and shared that intimacy that is, in it’s own way, rather selfish.


I’ve always thought of what we do as a bit selfish. We do it not just to share it with the audience - who brings a symbiotic energy to what we are creating - but because we have no choice. Because it’s like a spring, threatening to bubble out of our soul if we don’t let it loose.


I selfishly wandered into Merkin Hall in New York City to selfishly indulge in the gift that is what we do.


I recently joined the board of the Great Lakes Chamber Music Festival.


Like most organizations, our season had to sadly be postponed - but since so many of the musicians that were to have been involved in the festival this year live in the NYC area, we were able to organize three “vignettes” to be filmed and they will be distributed throughout the end of the summer.


My participation? Oh you know, I was just thrilled to be SINGING anything (and I was masked until on stage, and stood 15-20’ from everyone, faced out, everything sterilized, we did it all right) but I happened to have wandered into the most astonishingly talented group of colleagues. I sang Resphigi’s “Il Tramonto” with the Brentano Quartet. I sang Brahms op 91 (alto and viola songs - sorry mezzo friends, not sorry at ALL ... I’m in love with them) with the insanely talented Shai Wosner on piano and the glorious Misha Amory on viola. I did Massenet’s “Elegie” and Frank Bridge’s “Where is it that our soul doth go?” with Shai and Paul Watkins from the Emerson quartet on cello, which was beyond glorious, and Shai and I ended with Schumann’s “Widmung”.


Doing that kind of singing with those kind of colleagues at ANY time would have been magical and a gift.


Right now? It was a lifeline.


I cried all the way home in the car.


The release, the connection to the music, to the art...to my own soul.


I’d forgotten. I’d shoved it down deep so not being able to create wouldn’t hurt so much.


Good lord, I’m so glad I let it out and so very grateful for the gift.


We’ll be back. Really, we never left.

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