Friday morning, I woke up with a scratchy throat.
The first thought I had (thinking the throat issue would lead to a cold) was "How am I going to sing with my son for our family talent show this coming Monday?"
The second thought I had was "What am I going to do about Sunday morning with the Tabernacle Choir? Should I go and observe the broadcast, staying away from people? Should I go and try and sing if I felt up to it? (sometimes God does miraculous things for singers who are supposed to sing) Or should I just stay home."
My third thought, thinking more long-term, was "What about Christmas and my daughter's wedding next week!"
For my first thought, I pinned down my son after he got home from school and told him we needed to record the song--right then and there. That way, if I really was getting a cold and my voice was shot on Monday, we'd still have something to share at the talent show. Thankfully our recording turned out pretty well ("When Your Feet Don't Touch the Ground", from the musical FINDING NEVERLAND), despite my tendency to get emotional--which I always do when I hear or sing that song.
For my second thought, as Saturday night came and I was out with my wife doing a little shopping, the decision became clear given the state of my nose and my voice: I'd need to stay home.
I texted my carpool and a few others and gave them the news.
Reply texts came back:
"I'll be praying for you!"
"Bummer Ryan! Feel better soon."
"I'll sing extra for you tomorrow."
Then I went to bed hoping a miracle would occur overnight.
Well, that didn't happen. If anything, the cold was worse (the only good part about it being worse was that it validated my decision to stay home). So, after my family left for church, I turned on Music & the Spoken Word and enjoyed the last Christmas episode of the year, bundled up on the couch wishing I was at the Conference Center feeling healthy and singing. But, it WAS sort of nice to be on the couch, and it was definitely fun to feel the Christmas spirit while seeing my fellow choir friends giving their best.
As for my third thought... well, the jury is still out.
I'll keep my faith and hope high.
Until next time, God be with you.
PS: tune in next week for some very interesting year-end choir statistics!
Sunday, December 22, 2019
Sunday, December 15, 2019
TCATS #310 - Christmas Concert 2019
This year's Christmas Concert with guest stars Kelli O'Hara and Richard Thomas
marked the 20th anniversary of when the Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra began putting on Christmas concerts in the Conference Center. (There's a great article about that, HERE, if you're interested) After twelve extra rehearsals, various regular rehearsals, and lots of outside memorization time, the choir and orchestra thoroughly enjoyed sharing their talents and testimonies of Christ through music and song for this concert. The guest stars didn't disappoint in the least, and the dancers were the sweet icing on the cake--bringing the music to life!
(There's a two-minute video clip of some concert highlights, HERE)
I have a few favorite moments of the concert that I'd like to share.
First, this year the choir did something they've never done before in a Christmas Concert (or any concert for that matter). We began the concert at the back of the Conference Center--a grand processional that included walking to the rhythm of "Star in the East", holding candles, and working our way up to the choir seats. This all took lots of practice as the coordination and timing of the various lines of choir members needed to be precise. When it was all said and done though, I think the audience enjoyed it. And for me personally, I had some sweet moments of feeling like I was bringing my little light (which, to me, represented my personalized devotion) to the baby Christ child that holy night so long ago. For other choir members, they were just happy to see the smiling faces of audience members--which we normally don't get to see since we're so far away from them. At any rate, it was a fun and memorable way to start the concert.
Second, the Tree of Life scene was really touching. We had sung the Tree of Life
before on other concerts and at an official recording session we had a while back. It's a song composed by Mack Wilberg (lyrics by David Warner) that describes what the Tree of Life and its fruit represents: the love of God--and how that love helps us personally and how its meant to be given away to help others. A friend of mine expressed his thoughts about this scene in which several of the dancers were depicting this "love of God" theme. And I completely agreed with his assessment: that even though this wasn't a Christmas song per se, it's what Christmas is all about--feeling the love of God and His Son, Jesus Christ, and then expressing that love to others.
Third, I loved the story that Richard Thomas (the narrator) shared--about a boy surprising his father on Christmas day by waking up before 3 AM to get the milking done. The story itself was touching, but the part that I liked the most came from these lines: "Milking for once was not a chore. It was something else--a gift to his father, who loved him." I think that whenever we can make the transformation from doing good and important things because we have to or because we're expected to, to doing them because we truly love the person we're doing them for, then we truly have reason to celebrate.
Lastly, because of where I was standing (right by the edge), I was able to see a bunch of young kids come on stage right in front of me and then lift up the lights they were holding as part of a larger presentation going on. The kids were smiling from ear to ear. And as I watched them combine their lights together, holding them up high, I thought about the responsibility we all have to lift up our lights--our goodness, our happiness--and share it with others. When we do that, and when we combine our light with the light of others, it's truly a force for good in this world.
Well, I could go on and on about other elements of the concert (the nativity scene was cool, too), but I'll just end my thoughts by saying once again how grateful I am for the blessing of singing with the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. I'm grateful for my family who (especially this past week) has been there to support me during what's normally a busy time anyway. Thanks fam! And I'm also grateful for my close choir friends who's support I both enjoy and rely on.
Merry Christmas everyone! And until next time, God be with you.
PS: As always, the crowd went wild over Richard Elliott's organ piece (which was accompanied by a bluegrass band). Every year we expect an outstanding performance, and this year he continued to live up to that expectation!
Photos above courtesy of Deseret News.
 |
| About to rehearse the Processional |
 | |
| Wes and I had the responsibility of being two of the "line leaders" for the processional |
 |
| The view from where I sat (rehearsal) |
 |
| Some of my choir buddies! |
Sunday, December 8, 2019
TCATS #309 - Ripple
Well, it's late, I'm tired, and I still have a blog entry to write! Forgive me if this is a bit of a jumbled mess. At least I can get points for being consistent every week!
A couple of weeks ago, I gave a talk in my ward about the Tabernacle Choir. I started off answering some commonly asked questions about the Choir, and then ended with saying some words about an important topic--the need for each of us to play our part. Along with just sharing some thoughts on that topic, I actually read one of my previous blog posts about it (HERE) and hoped that someone listening would get something worthwhile from it. After the meeting, a sister in the ward related how my words had helped her see her calling in a new light. And then today, two weeks later, another sister I didn't even know came up and said how it had made such an impression on her that she had thought about it all week and even talked about it with several of her friends who were, in turn, impacted as well.
This got me thinking about one of my favorite TV shows: Joan of Arcadia. Like many shows I've liked over the years, it got canceled way before it was time--the producers of the showing saying that public interest in faith-themed shows had started to lag. A sad commentary if true. At any rate, the show was about a girl named Joan (who went to Arcadia High School) who was approached by God throughout the week to do certain things. Things that, to Joan, simply didn't make sense. They were often things she didn't want to do, and were things that were outside her comfort zone. Trusting God, though, she typically did them. And while it wasn't always obvious what came of them, sometimes Joan was able to see the incredible ripple effect. She would do something, which affected person A, who was able to affect person B, and cause person C to be steered in a direction that actually saved a life, or mended a strained relationship or increased someone's hope (the list goes on).
Point being, our actions have consequences and ripple effects--many of which we don't get to see. Combined with that, if we all realize we have a part to play, and then actually play that part, our ripple effects for good can be quite profound. A smile, a heart-felt text, a hug, face-to-face words of gratitude, letting people in and being a good listener to people--these things and so many more can uplift and inspire and really truly make a difference.
This falls in nicely with the Christmas theme of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints: LIGHT THE WORLD, one person at a time. So go ahead--try it. Be yourself. Play your part. Do good. See the ripples. And light the world.
Until next time, God be with you.
PS: It's Christmas Concert week this coming week and I just want to thank my dear wife and kids ahead of time how much I appreciate their support during a week I'm gone every night. Also, thanks to my fellow friends and colleagues in the choir who also support and uplift and make it all fun. Couldn't do it without you guys. Love you all.
A couple of weeks ago, I gave a talk in my ward about the Tabernacle Choir. I started off answering some commonly asked questions about the Choir, and then ended with saying some words about an important topic--the need for each of us to play our part. Along with just sharing some thoughts on that topic, I actually read one of my previous blog posts about it (HERE) and hoped that someone listening would get something worthwhile from it. After the meeting, a sister in the ward related how my words had helped her see her calling in a new light. And then today, two weeks later, another sister I didn't even know came up and said how it had made such an impression on her that she had thought about it all week and even talked about it with several of her friends who were, in turn, impacted as well.
This got me thinking about one of my favorite TV shows: Joan of Arcadia. Like many shows I've liked over the years, it got canceled way before it was time--the producers of the showing saying that public interest in faith-themed shows had started to lag. A sad commentary if true. At any rate, the show was about a girl named Joan (who went to Arcadia High School) who was approached by God throughout the week to do certain things. Things that, to Joan, simply didn't make sense. They were often things she didn't want to do, and were things that were outside her comfort zone. Trusting God, though, she typically did them. And while it wasn't always obvious what came of them, sometimes Joan was able to see the incredible ripple effect. She would do something, which affected person A, who was able to affect person B, and cause person C to be steered in a direction that actually saved a life, or mended a strained relationship or increased someone's hope (the list goes on).
Point being, our actions have consequences and ripple effects--many of which we don't get to see. Combined with that, if we all realize we have a part to play, and then actually play that part, our ripple effects for good can be quite profound. A smile, a heart-felt text, a hug, face-to-face words of gratitude, letting people in and being a good listener to people--these things and so many more can uplift and inspire and really truly make a difference.
This falls in nicely with the Christmas theme of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints: LIGHT THE WORLD, one person at a time. So go ahead--try it. Be yourself. Play your part. Do good. See the ripples. And light the world.
Until next time, God be with you.
PS: It's Christmas Concert week this coming week and I just want to thank my dear wife and kids ahead of time how much I appreciate their support during a week I'm gone every night. Also, thanks to my fellow friends and colleagues in the choir who also support and uplift and make it all fun. Couldn't do it without you guys. Love you all.
Sunday, December 1, 2019
TCATS #308 - Welcome, Christmas Season!
And truly He is!
Unfortunately, sometimes it's difficult to stay reminded of that.
Just last night, my wife and I were at the grand opening of the Barnes & Noble bookstore in Farmington and were trying to find a Christmas-themed picture book (we purchase one each Christmas season as a family tradition). We looked in one spot that a B&N worker pointed us to, but were disappointed to find that none of them were even remotely connected to the true meaning of Christmas. We then found another display of holiday books, only to be equally disappointed. Finally, we came across one small section of one bookshelf where lo and
Perfect!
Another example of Christ being hard to find in Christmas was mentioned by a member of a local congregation I worshiped with today. She stood to share her testimony and mentioned that last year, each time she'd get in her car, she'd turn on the Christmas radio station to enjoy Christmas music. She'd also hear that same music played at stores or shopping malls or on predefined Pandora or Spotify Christmas playlists. To her dismay, though, by December 25th, she was really sick of Christmas music! And then she realized why: almost none of the songs she had been listening to were true Christmas carols that spoke of Christ. (As an aside, if I'm out shopping and have to endure "Santa Baby" or "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time" or "Mele Kalikimaka" or "All I Want for Christmas" just one more time, I think I'll run out of the store like a crazy person!) Do non-Christ centered Christmas songs have their place? Sure. Who doesn't enjoy Jingle Bells or White Christmas or Frosty the Snowman sometimes? But I'd argue that the songs that endure in your heart and bring hope and peace won't have themes of roasted chestnuts or jingling sleighs. Rather, they'll connect you with the babe in the manger, who "increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man," who lived and loved perfectly, and who gave his life for each one of us.
I hope we can all find ways to keep Christ in Christmas this year. It's unlikely the world will help with that. It'll be up to us to proactively make that happen.
Until next time, God be with you.
(A few pics from today's broadcast)
Sunday, November 24, 2019
TCATS #307 - Atypical Thanks
I'm grateful I was back with my choir family Thursday and today after not singing in the Sunday broadcast for the past three weeks. Today, of course, was our "Thanksgiving Special" and the songs and the message all centered around the theme of gratitude. As such, I thought it would be fitting to express ten reasons I'm grateful for my continued time with the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. Keep in mind that these ten reasons aren't going to be your typical reasons--I have those reasons and have expressed them in this blog before (getting to sing, the people, the music itself, the guest artist experiences, etc). But these are some atypical reasons that go down to the tiny details.
10. I'm thankful for plastic water bottles that don't make those crinkly noises when you pick them up. I recently discovered the Evian brand water bottle and it's the perfect height, is QUIET, and has an easy to screw on cap. Does it cost more than the popular Kirkland brand? Absolutely. But a few Evian bottles can go for months by refilling them.
9. I'm thankful for the people who choose the background lighting and patterns and scenery that gets displayed behind us. We don't notice it at the time we're singing, but when I review the performance on Youtube or TV, I see what a great job they did.
8. I'm thankful that not everyone arrives at the Tabernacle for choir at the same time. I was getting dressed this morning in the blue suit and red snowflake tie and had plenty of room to do so. Getting back into "regular" clothes afterwards, though, isn't so roomy!
7. I'm thankful for multiple bathrooms that are available to use when nature calls. Yes, the Conference Center men's bathroom could use more stalls (there's typically a line for those during break), but it's just nice that there's one there.
6. I'm thankful for friends to talk to during breaks and even friends who wait for you as you exit the stage or as you pick up your music and have a long walk ahead of you to the Conference Center or the Tabernacle. The conversations that ensue are usually uplifting and bring a smile to my face.
5. I'm thankful that I'm not always on ROW #6. Even though I'm assigned to row #6, I often get moved down to #5 or #4 because someone else is absent and the spaces need to be filled in. Row #6 is the most crowded row out of them all. Someone felt a need to stick an extra seat into that row when there really wasn't enough space to begin with.
4. I'm thankful when I'm walking to and fro and other members of the choir that I pass in the hallways look me in the eyes and with a smile, say "hello Ryan".
3. I'm thankful for family members and friends that say how much they enjoyed another performance of ours, even when they've already heard the songs a million times.
2. I'm thankful for the organ solo that occurs AFTER the broadcast each Sunday. I don't get a chance to just sit there and hear it too often, but when I do, I'm always thankful because it's always so moving.
1. I'm thankful every time I finally make it to my seat and have about 5 minutes before rehearsal starts. I love to just sit there, look around, notice people, enjoy the familiarity, and count all of my blessings for being able to be there in the first place.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone.
Until next time, God be with you.
10. I'm thankful for plastic water bottles that don't make those crinkly noises when you pick them up. I recently discovered the Evian brand water bottle and it's the perfect height, is QUIET, and has an easy to screw on cap. Does it cost more than the popular Kirkland brand? Absolutely. But a few Evian bottles can go for months by refilling them.
9. I'm thankful for the people who choose the background lighting and patterns and scenery that gets displayed behind us. We don't notice it at the time we're singing, but when I review the performance on Youtube or TV, I see what a great job they did.
8. I'm thankful that not everyone arrives at the Tabernacle for choir at the same time. I was getting dressed this morning in the blue suit and red snowflake tie and had plenty of room to do so. Getting back into "regular" clothes afterwards, though, isn't so roomy!
7. I'm thankful for multiple bathrooms that are available to use when nature calls. Yes, the Conference Center men's bathroom could use more stalls (there's typically a line for those during break), but it's just nice that there's one there.
6. I'm thankful for friends to talk to during breaks and even friends who wait for you as you exit the stage or as you pick up your music and have a long walk ahead of you to the Conference Center or the Tabernacle. The conversations that ensue are usually uplifting and bring a smile to my face.
5. I'm thankful that I'm not always on ROW #6. Even though I'm assigned to row #6, I often get moved down to #5 or #4 because someone else is absent and the spaces need to be filled in. Row #6 is the most crowded row out of them all. Someone felt a need to stick an extra seat into that row when there really wasn't enough space to begin with.
4. I'm thankful when I'm walking to and fro and other members of the choir that I pass in the hallways look me in the eyes and with a smile, say "hello Ryan".
3. I'm thankful for family members and friends that say how much they enjoyed another performance of ours, even when they've already heard the songs a million times.
2. I'm thankful for the organ solo that occurs AFTER the broadcast each Sunday. I don't get a chance to just sit there and hear it too often, but when I do, I'm always thankful because it's always so moving.
1. I'm thankful every time I finally make it to my seat and have about 5 minutes before rehearsal starts. I love to just sit there, look around, notice people, enjoy the familiarity, and count all of my blessings for being able to be there in the first place.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone.
Until next time, God be with you.
Sunday, November 17, 2019
TCATS #306 - Noticing the Other Person
I recently returned from a vacation to Jamaica which was absolutely wonderful. It did, however, cause me to miss two Thursday night rehearsals, plus a Sunday performance/rehearsal. As such, I was again in "observing mode" today. Thankfully, my friend Ryan was also in observing mode so we observed together--enjoying five great pieces that the choir performed for Music & the Spoken Word. My favorite of the bunch was Standing on the Promises. That song never gets old and never disappoints. There's so much of life that takes a toll on your faith and distracts you from what's most important. And this song always reminds me that things will be OK (actually, more than OK) if we stand on the promises that God has given us. And by standing, I mean living each day relying on those promises to be delivered as we strive to follow Christ.
As I was contemplating what to write about today, my wife gave me a good idea--so I'm going to go with it. :) During the past six years I've been in the choir, my wife and I will find ourselves at family events or going out with friends. And inevitably, the topic of conversation will either start with, or gravitate to, the Tabernacle Choir. The questions might be directed to me ("Ryan, so how's the choir going?") or when my wife is without me, she'll get the questions ("So how is Ryan enjoying the choir?"). When I get the questions, my good wife patiently smiles and listens--sometimes contributing experiences or insights. And when she gets the questions, she is obviously nice and answers those questions the best she can.
I am, of course, grateful for the interest people have about the choir and I recognize it's an easy and obvious topic to ask about. Their sincere desire to learn more is something I appreciate. However, I often feel bad that my wife repeatedly gets the short end of the stick. How I've wished that at least some of the time, people would come up to us and ask how she's doing. Or, at the very least, ask "So Jenn, how is it supporting Ryan in the choir? What are some of the highs and the lows you've been through?"
Like I said, people mean well and neither my wife nor I hold any sort of grudge towards anyone asking about the choir. It just illustrates an important principle that we all need to be aware of more often: sometimes it's the other person who could use the attention.
So, next time you're in a situation where you have the opportunity to talk to the less-noticed person--the one who may not, for example, be singing with a world-renowned choir that travels the the globe and sings to millions each week--take it! I guarantee that the person will be very grateful. And then, afterwards, when the conversation is needing a new direction, the obvious topic at hand is always one you can turn to.
Until next time, God be with you.
As I was contemplating what to write about today, my wife gave me a good idea--so I'm going to go with it. :) During the past six years I've been in the choir, my wife and I will find ourselves at family events or going out with friends. And inevitably, the topic of conversation will either start with, or gravitate to, the Tabernacle Choir. The questions might be directed to me ("Ryan, so how's the choir going?") or when my wife is without me, she'll get the questions ("So how is Ryan enjoying the choir?"). When I get the questions, my good wife patiently smiles and listens--sometimes contributing experiences or insights. And when she gets the questions, she is obviously nice and answers those questions the best she can.
I am, of course, grateful for the interest people have about the choir and I recognize it's an easy and obvious topic to ask about. Their sincere desire to learn more is something I appreciate. However, I often feel bad that my wife repeatedly gets the short end of the stick. How I've wished that at least some of the time, people would come up to us and ask how she's doing. Or, at the very least, ask "So Jenn, how is it supporting Ryan in the choir? What are some of the highs and the lows you've been through?"
Like I said, people mean well and neither my wife nor I hold any sort of grudge towards anyone asking about the choir. It just illustrates an important principle that we all need to be aware of more often: sometimes it's the other person who could use the attention.
So, next time you're in a situation where you have the opportunity to talk to the less-noticed person--the one who may not, for example, be singing with a world-renowned choir that travels the the globe and sings to millions each week--take it! I guarantee that the person will be very grateful. And then, afterwards, when the conversation is needing a new direction, the obvious topic at hand is always one you can turn to.
Until next time, God be with you.
Sunday, November 3, 2019
TCATS #304 - Players on a Stage
I missed rehearsal for the week, so I was on the sidelines to watch the broadcast today. Sometimes when this happens, I actually get a little sad that I'm not singing. But today I was content to just sit and watch, next to my good friend Jason-- who was also content to just enjoy the observation experience.
There were a few moments when I just looked around and noticed all of the "players" in this Tabernacle Choir experience. And as I did so, I thought about the famous words that Shakespeare once penned: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances."
The Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square will continue moving forward year after year as it's always done since 1847 (1929 began Music & the Spoken Word). The singers, the choir leadership, even the conductors will play their part for a time and then they will make their exit. Their replacements will then make their entrance. Those new players will contribute what they can, enjoy the marvelous experience it is, enrich others' lives, and then move on to something else.
On the one hand, such an observation makes me feel rather unimportant. After all, one day some other individual will join the choir as a new addition to the bass section and he will inherit "my" number: B-108. All of my music markings--especially all of those arrows I drew pointing upward to help encourage me to sing just a little higher--will be his now. He might even sit where I sat, adding his voice to the voices of many others.
On the other hand, because I know that at some point that day will come, it's important not to minimize anything in "the now." No one understands this more right now than my friend Ryan, who only has six months left in the choir (having served all of his allotted 20)! He's been experiencing several last moments for months now and each time we have a concert or some other performance, it's usually the last of that type, for him. Who can even count all of the hours put into 20 years of service? It's unbelievable. And it definitely means something. He has been but one player on the stage. But all of those hours have helped to change him--and to change so many others. That's what consecrated service does to the giver and receiver. It changes them for the better.
So, far be it from me to change Shakespeare's quote. But if I did, I would substitute the word "merely" for "vitally important".
For truly, everyone is.
Until next time, God be with you.
There were a few moments when I just looked around and noticed all of the "players" in this Tabernacle Choir experience. And as I did so, I thought about the famous words that Shakespeare once penned: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances."
The Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square will continue moving forward year after year as it's always done since 1847 (1929 began Music & the Spoken Word). The singers, the choir leadership, even the conductors will play their part for a time and then they will make their exit. Their replacements will then make their entrance. Those new players will contribute what they can, enjoy the marvelous experience it is, enrich others' lives, and then move on to something else.
On the one hand, such an observation makes me feel rather unimportant. After all, one day some other individual will join the choir as a new addition to the bass section and he will inherit "my" number: B-108. All of my music markings--especially all of those arrows I drew pointing upward to help encourage me to sing just a little higher--will be his now. He might even sit where I sat, adding his voice to the voices of many others.
On the other hand, because I know that at some point that day will come, it's important not to minimize anything in "the now." No one understands this more right now than my friend Ryan, who only has six months left in the choir (having served all of his allotted 20)! He's been experiencing several last moments for months now and each time we have a concert or some other performance, it's usually the last of that type, for him. Who can even count all of the hours put into 20 years of service? It's unbelievable. And it definitely means something. He has been but one player on the stage. But all of those hours have helped to change him--and to change so many others. That's what consecrated service does to the giver and receiver. It changes them for the better.
So, far be it from me to change Shakespeare's quote. But if I did, I would substitute the word "merely" for "vitally important".
For truly, everyone is.
Until next time, God be with you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)