Photo by royg bb iv

Next week at this time, I’ll be at Tanglewood. Contrary to what the marketing folks at Disney want you to believe, Tanglewood actually is the most magical place on earth.

By all accounts I should hate Tanglewood. Bugs freak me out, I have terrible allergies, being hot makes me irritable, and mosquito bites send me to the doctor’s (cf. aforementioned allergies). And let’s face it, white concert attire just isn’t as flattering as black. Yet year after year I count down the days until John and I head to Tanglewood, armed with OFF! and a wardrobe that covers 45 to 105 degrees Fahrenheit.

It’s hard to describe what’s so awesome about Tanglewood. Part of it is that we get to see our fellow chorus friends for several days in a row, instead of a few hours every month or two. Part of it is that our meal stipend, which one could save, in theory, is spent like play money on long dinners full of camaraderie and laughter. But mostly I think it’s that we’ve left our homes and jobs behind for our collective love of music and the magical experience that is Tanglewood.

A while back, a 30+ year member of the TFC wrote a touching email about watching his children walk across the Tanglewood lawn, first as toddlers and now as adults with kids of their own. I hope someday I’ll do the same.

The first blog I ever followed was that of soprano Anne-Carolyn Bird. Over the years I’ve read about her experiences as a Tanglewood Fellow, then as a young artist making her Met debut, and now as working mother.

The odds of becoming a professional opera singer are incredibly slim, so reading Anne-Carolyn’s blog is a bit like reading a fairly tale. Granted, there is no fairy godmother action here. Behind Anne-Carolyn’s success is plenty of practicing, auditions, rejections, and nerves, which make the blog such a fascinating read.

I’m certain that my odds of becoming a professional opera singer are infinitesimally small. As a singer, I’m what I call an “intense hobbyist,” and I don’t envision that changing in the foreseeable future. But a girl can dream! I’m going to be a princess and an opera singer.

Bach Concerto for 4 Harpsichords, BWV 1065

This past Sunday, I played a church service for the First Unitarian Society in Newton. Most of the congregation were attending the church retreat or away for the long weekend, so we enjoyed an intimate service with a dozen members or so.

The prelude and postlude for Sunday services often provide a backdrop for comings and goings, friendly greetings, and the pitter-patter of children running between pews. This morning’s small congregation listened in serene stillness, with nary a rustle or cough to be heard. After each piece, I basked in the reflective silence of the sanctuary.

I also had the pleasure of accompanying the church’s regular soprano soloist, Deborah Selig. The caliber of church musicians varies widely, and I was surprised to be working with such an accomplished professional. How lucky the congregation is to hear such beautiful singing every week!

I’ve yet to encounter a church gig that I haven’t enjoyed, but I’m counting this one among my favorites.