Most of my music aspirations have gone unfulfilled, and as many, I have made peace with my place in the music world, what I have accomplished, and what I am still able to do. You will be spared the litany of mishaps and unfortunate occurrences. On this day, 27 June 2012, I can only be grateful as I remember those of my musician relations who are no longer here to share their gifts to any degree at all. And, as an old song begins, I’m still here.
Having begun playing (or attempting to play?) piano around the age of six, five-plus decades later I am still trying. In my school years I sang in school choirs, including while an applied music major at the University of Houston, and studied voice off and on privately because I had to teach my choirs and felt like the lessons would help me help them. Yet, just a few years ago, I found a very large bucket in which to carry my alto voice; that bucket has proved itself to be serviceable, and said yes when occasionally asked to do solo work at my church. My thought was that I ought to be safe at my church, if I’m to be safe anywhere. (Of course, there is an exceptional group of folks that are the family of God called South Main Baptist – but that is for another time.) By a series of incidents, a mixed bag of negative and positive, I was invited to join the Houston Ebony Opera Chorus. This positive experience has brought me face to face with young, talented musicians, and I am blessed to get to know them, sing with them, and, hopefully, encourage them.
Among those young ones, I met a tenor, Christopher Harris. Mr. Harris later invited me to join his Houston Master Singers. There I became more acquainted with him and his original compositions. They continue to stir my heart and are new, fresh, exciting and uplifting each time my mind’s ear visits them.
On this past Sunday, 24 June, Houston Ebony Music presented its annual Juneteenth concert at Riverside United Methodist Church here in Houston. Our unique program featured works by local composers. Two of the works performed were composed by Christopher Harris. This long, lithe young man has depth and breadth of ability found in more seasoned musicians. Faultless and I Am Loved are night and day.
Faultless, based on one of my favorite Biblical passages (Jude 24-25) starts with a quiet intensity that builds to a bright, glorious celebration of God, the Father and Son. I like this passage from The Message:
And now to him who can keep you on your feet, standing tall in his bright presence, fresh and celebrating—to our one God, our only Savior, through Jesus Christ, our Master, be glory, majesty, strength, and rule before all time, and now, and to the end of all time. Yes.
Perhaps the reader will be more familiar with the King James version:
Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.
Either way, these fine, fine Words that are rendered in three versions and hang on the wall just to the right of my front door, and Mr. Harris has set them perfectly to music that makes the heart swell to bursting.
On the other hand I Am Loved is broad, sweeping, exciting, and, at times, joyfully overwhelming. Taken from Sarah Teasdale’s poem, Mr. Harris again created the perfect music setting for these words:
I am wild, I will sing to the trees,
I will sing to the stars in the sky,
I love, I am loved, he is mine,
Now at last I can die!
I am sandaled with wind and with flame,
I have heart-fire and singing to give,
I can tread on the grass or the stars,
Now at last I can live!
When we sang Faultless, there was first a wave of murmuring from the audience, then applause and excited utterances. When we sang I Am Loved, which ended the program, the applause was even more adnimated. As I stood with the chorus, my heart swelled with such pride as he, and we, witnessed the audience’s appreciation; it could not have been more had he been my own son.
And now, a little more than 24 hours ago, I sat near the center aisle in the 6th or 7th pew at Grace Presbyterian Church on Sam Houston Parkway near Westheimer, in Houston, Texas with a direct view of Daryl Robinson, a young man who is not so tall in height, but who is a giant among his immediate peers, those who play pipe organ, the wider circle of peers who are musicians, and the even wider circle of people who just like music well executed. Perhaps there were folks in attendance who had never been exposed to the grand sound of a well-played pipe organ, or who had never had a live experience like that. Bless their hearts; they were certainly in the right place!
Daryl played as diverse a program as I could ever imagine. While each of the four works were wonderfully rendered, the third, Ettrick Banks by Judith Weir (b. 1954) was the most unusual. It evoked scenes that I easily visualized, unfolding a story in my mind’s eye. The fourth, Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H, S. 260 ii, by Franz Listz, was the most powerful, heart-felt and breath-taking – literally breath-taking. At its end I found myself exhaling, right hand clutching my chest, and faced streaked with tears.
This is only a lame attempt at painting a word picture whose elements are unique combinations of sound – and quiet – that stir every aspect of the human psyche. The problem is, either words -- or my vocabulary -- are simply inadequate. Music is not to be spoken of, but to be listened to, to consume, to be consumed, and to enfold, caress, soothe, renew, restore and rejuvenate. It can do all of that, and more.
Both Christopher and Daryl, while they have their specialties, are well-rounded musicians. Christopher writes, has a resonant tenor voice and plays piano. Daryl is as commanding with his choral conducting and pianistic abilities as he is sitting at the organ. When speaking of either Christopher or Daryl, I often say to those who know Daryl, Christopher is to composition what Daryl is to pipe organ; and when speaking to those who know Christopher, Daryl is to pipe organ what Christopher is to composition. Nothing else need be said; this seems to cut to the chase and relieve me of trying to describe how phenomenal either of these young men are. I always end, though, with, and he has such a great spirit. Unlike other uber talented people, they walk with both feet on the ground, are approachable, gracious, pleasant and personable. My prayer is that even as they soar to higher dimensions of their calling, they remain as human and grounded as they are now.
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